


Blink back to let me know.

by Trading_Mistakes



Category: Bandom, Fueled by Ramen, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Arguing, Blood, Boys In Love, Bruises, Crying, Depression, Drinking, Friendship/Love, Gay Male Character, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Medication, Mild Kink, Mild Painplay, Multi, Oral Sex, Overdose-mention, Painplay, Panic Attacks, Pills, Pinching, Referenced Eating disorder, Regret, Relationship(s), Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, Writing, brallon, razor blades, triggering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 103,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2215185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trading_Mistakes/pseuds/Trading_Mistakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why the hell did I say that?!<br/>I wanted to die right there. Really... </p><p> <br/>Love definitely is not a choice as Brendon and Dallon are now very aware of. Brendon and Dallon fall in love while Dallon tries to fight his inner demons with Brendon's help. Dallon just wants to stay in the band no matter what; Brendon just wants Dallon to be happy. </p><p>••••••••••••<br/><b>02/01/18</b> I am so, so sorry! I know I keep promising this chapter and I swear it's being written! Life got really hectic lately, I hope you understand! New Chapter should be up shortly!<br/><span class="u">Chapter 36</span> is 85% finished! Tiny Spoiler/not spoiler: 2 new bandom characters are making an appearance  in this chapter! I think you will be very happy, possibly surprised! In the mean time; feel free to leave some comments. <3 <3 <3 ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Today has been perfect so far. We spent a lot of time in the park just people watching. For whatever reason, he loves to people watch. He never says too much about them, always just watching. He told me once that he liked to imagine where they were going, what they were thinking. Making up scenarios with ridiculous endings just to appease his imagination. Like the time the guy in the business suit walking by the bridge was actually a mafia boss on a stakeout. Yeah, they were honestly weird, but that is Brendon. He loves to take everything to an extreme in his life. Love, music, stage performances, skateboarding, it is all done with a passion unlike anything you have ever experienced and he won't settle for anything less than perfection.  

I just wanted to spend a day together free from judgment and maybe to clear my head a bit.

Stress and insomnia has taken it's toll on us. We've been working really hard lately trying to get this new record off the cutting room floor. A year ago, we were at the top of our game. On tour, coming down from a new album high that seemed to never end. We finished our European leg of the tour and we were excited to reconvene in the studio for the sake of our fans. 

For the sake of our sanity. 

Then, we hit a roadblock.We were writing lyrics, but could never seem to get the score completed. 6 months in and frustrated, we all decided we were burnt out and in desperate need of a break. Spencer and Kenny went home to their families for a month for some quality time while Brendon and I decided to stay in Vegas to see what we can do with what we have down already; which wasn't much.

As we lay in the grass, staring at the random clouds in an otherwise blue sky, he turns his head towards me and whispers "Dall, what are you thinking?" 

I was comfortable, relaxed, not even realizing what I was going to say, but there it was. Those words flew from my mouth and passed my lips like a fly escaping through a car window. 

"About how much I love you... THIS! I mean this! Just laying here and..."  My voice trails off. I lay silent, breathing way too fast, my heart feeling like it is going to explode.

_Oh my god!_

I know my face must be red, I can feel the slow spread of embarrassment. 

 _Why the hell did I say that?!_  
_I wanted to die right there. Really... UGH!_  
_Shit, what did I do!?_  
_We are barely dating!_

My whole body feels numb.

I turn my head opposite of Brendon. I can't let him see me.

_Oh god, maybe he didn't hear me?_

Seconds slip by, I feel sick.

Brendon's hand moves slowly towards mine and I feel his long fingers interlace with my own, grasping tightly as if he is afraid to let go.

My breath hitches and I start to panic.

_He's never done this before..._

Then I hear those words that I will never forget.

_"Love you too, Dallon."_

He smiles one of his bright, toothy smiles and plants a soft kiss on my forehead- god does it feel amazing!

"I can't believe that just happened." I say, laughing nervously. "I kinda always hoped it would have at least been _romantic_ when we finally said it."

He turns on his side resting his elbow in the grass, "Dallon James Weekes, I have literally loved you since the moment I saw your adorable, gigantic body walk into my studio. I couldn't even fathom the thought of living my life without you."  

_Wow, I think I might just melt from his cuteness._

  
Reality starts to set in and I feel my anxiety permeate my chest cavity. 

"Bren, I... I...",  I sigh.

No, I can't do it. I am going to break his heart and I just can't do it. I turn away from him so he won't see me cry. 

"Dall?"

I close my eyes and try to stop this moment from happening.

_If I say nothing, maybe he will just walk away?_

"Dallon, what's going on?... What's the matter!?" His voice is louder, but almost breaking at this point.

_He is genuinely worried- I know that tone in his voice. Shit!_

_I summon some courage and I lie through my perfect smile._

"Nothing B, nothing. I am just happy you said it back."

"Christ, Dallon! You scared the shit out of me!" He says as he takes a deep breath. He pulls his fingers through his thick black hair, keeping his head down. "I thought you weren't okay for a second." His voice concerned.

"Sorry, B. You know it's hard for me say what's on my mind sometimes."

"I know Dall, I know. I really do love you, you know that, right?" He smiles again. Less goofy and with a more concerned look of slight confusion in his eyes. 

"I love you too, B. Nothing is wrong." I say quietly, snuggling against his chest and trying to stop the tears from flowing.  

He pulls me close and we lay there for a little while longer as the sun is setting in front of us.

_It's just a small white lie, right? I mean it's true, I do love him._

_I just didn't tell him how dark my life has felt lately._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon knows he fucked up big time, but is Brendon saving him?

Brendon is draped over me on the couch. His smooth, tattooed skin, warm and inviting. His hand is resting on my chest and I slowly rub his thumb with mine while he breathes a content sigh. 

I love this man, I honestly do.  
I just don't think he has the time or patience to deal with my emotions, it wouldn't be fair to him. 

After the last time I broke down, he swore up and down that he would never let anything happen to me. We were just barely friends/band mates at that time. I was overwhelmed from touring and I felt so far out of my element that I just wanted to sleep- _forever._ I had been seeing a therapist back at home and managing my meds from the road. I thought everything would be okay since I was surrounded by friends, doing something I truly wanted to do.

As it turns out, I was wrong. I was _really_ wrong. As the tour went on and we were just exhausting ourselves night after night, a part of my brain kept telling me how terrible I was and I started to self harm again. I didn't know how else to cope. I didn't want anyone to worry.

I could do it on my legs or on my hips and no one would ever see it. I was safe I thought. Except that I always forget that being on a bus for the majority of the year leaves you little to no privacy. I found this out when Brendon walked in on me in the bathroom one night after a show while I was cutting my hip . 

 _"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON, DALLON?!!"_  There was a panic in his voice that I have never wanted to hear again. 

I froze. I didn't know what to say. How could I even explain this if I tried?

"I uh, I uh-Fuck! Goddammit!!" I broke down; dropping the razor blade onto the tiled floor and sobbed quietly into my hands. 

Brendon bent down picking up the blade; eyeing it cautiously.

"I'm sorry. I am just really overwhelmed, B." I could barely speak. My eyes welling with salty tears that were beginning to pool in my now trembling hands.

He closed the door behind him _-which was a feat among itself in this tiny, tin-can of a bathroom-_ and stared at me with these sad eyes. I could tell he was choosing his words carefully. 

"Dallon." he cleared his throat a bit and says softly, "Dall, it's okay, you can talk to me you know? I will always listen."

"It's stupid, B. I don't know what I was thinking. Old habits die hard, right?" My voice was muffled but, I gave a small tired chuckle.

_I still haven't looked at him._

"Dall, I understand, okay? Trust me. Just _please_ come to me if you ever feel this way. Okay? I will help you any way I can. We can go get drunk or fuck with Zack or something- anything, okay?" He laughed his normal gregarious laugh and winked at me as I turned to look at him.

"Look-" he said, "We still have 3 more months left of tour, let's try to make the most of it. Hmm?" I can't resist those sparking eyes and sad pathetic pout.

"I'll try- I just fucked up tonight, man. I'm sorry."

He gave me this knowing look and put his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze, "I know, Dall." He leaves the bathroom taking the blade with him and closing the door behind him. I sit there for a moment and try to wrap my head around what just happened. I never meant for anyone to find out about it. Never.

 _I am such a fucking idiot._  

I cleaned and bandaged my wounds and went back to my bunk. I was intending on hiding my blades but it looks like Brendon already got to them. I couldn't really be mad though, It felt nice that he cared.

True to his word, he kept an eye on me the next 3 months. He never outwardly said it but, I could see him sneaking looks when I would change back stage. Half of me wanted to believe he just wanted a peak of what I had to offer (nothing at best) and the other half knew he was looking for fresh wounds. I just smiled at him and winked and he did the same. We kept it between ourselves, which I am thankful of.  

I was fighting these demons that he knew nothing about but, I appreciated the help. To be honest, I wanted to get better but, I didn't and I was tired of doing this every day.   

Brendon and I got a bit closer before the end of tour. He and I talked a lot which helps when I feel so down. He even held me one night when I had a massive panic attack on our day off in New York. He made me take my meds -which I hate- and laid next to me rubbing my back until I finally fell asleep on the lounge couch in the back of the bus. 

  
Having him around is comforting- he makes me feel _safe_.

So, I waited until the tour was almost over to make a decision.

We would be home in the morning and no one would suspect anything was amiss until after- hopefully _way_ after.

 

We were back in Vegas at around 9 am that day. I said my goodbyes to the rest of the band and told them I would see them in a few weeks when we were able to get into our recording space.   

"Hey, Dallon!" Brendon shouted as I walked to my car. I turned around and he was right there behind me, making me jump.

"Uh, yea, B. What's up?" I said a bit nervously.

"You wanna like - do you want to hang out tomorrow? I mean, I know we just spent all that time on tour and everything, but can we?" He practically giggles and I have to admit it was really cute.

"Yeah, sure, B. Uh, call me after 12."

_I hope I didn't cringe when I said that._

"Looking forward to it!" He shouts as he smiles that goofy grin and practically sprints to his car.

I had already had it in mind. I saved all my meds from tour. I don't know if anyone noticed I wasn't taking them? If they did they didn't say anything at least. They probably don't really care enough anyways so there is no point in pondering this any further.

_I have too many thoughts in my head right now and none of them good._

I got in my car and drove to the tiny apartment I rent on the east side of town. I didn't even tell my parents I was back from tour. I assume they'll figure it out in the morning.

Everything was still in it's place. My boring, fucked up life stuffed into 4 walls in a crappy apartment in Las Vegas. I never kept much at the apartment because we were gone so much just a bed, couch, and a table really. It's lonely, to be honest, which wasn't helping my mindset right now. 

I threw my bags onto the floor in my bedroom, why bother unpacking? I thought.

_I wanted to just get it over with. They'll find a new bassist and I will finally be happy._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby red is a color Dallon knows too well...

_"Screw it!"_   I think outloud

My heart is racing as I find what I need and It doesn't take long before I am at my bed with a notebook writing my goodbyes. The band, my parents, I even wrote one for the fans. Hell, they get me; they care a lot about not just me but, the other guys too. I kind of owe it to them… to everyone.

That alone starts to make me feel guilty...

I make my way into the kitchen and I set my pen down on top of my notebook, lay them both on the table and pour myself a drink. 

I almost feel guilty knowing that I may be breaking a few hearts but, what about mine?!

"No one has ever cared!" I say, out loud.

 

_Then it hit me...no one but, Brendon._

 

My heart sinks in my chest. What the fuck am I going to do? Brendon is going to try to call me In the afternoon and when he doesn't reach me, then what? Will he find me?

I sit on my shitty couch with the bottle in my hand; fuck pouring it into a cup- less to clean when they go to re-rent my apartment...

 

_It’s almost 8pm now. I've been sitting here drinking for hours-and I am no more alive than I am dead._

Part of me is scared and part of me is telling the other part to suck It up and do It already.

 

I go in the bathroom and find my razor blades, although I am not sure why. This isn't what my intention is. Not how I planned this and I slink against the wall using my back to slide down to the cold tile floor.

I hold the blade with my fingertips watching the way the light from the vanity shines against the finish. I almost stop myself from doing it, I almost drop the blade and lay down on the floor instead but something inside my head is telling me to do this and I am almost powerless to control anything in my drunken stupor. 

_I am dragging the blade against my skin before I even realize I am doing it._

"Fuck!" I hissed.

_Goddamn._ _I forgot how much that hurts._

I am now ridiculously drunk, bleeding from my forearm. Ruby red blood gently falling into a small drip of a puddle on my left leg. I blink back tears and try to remember how I got here in the first place. My head is spinning and I haven't even swallowed a single pill yet.

_"You're weak, dude. Just finish what you started. It doesn't matter how it happens..."_

_My thoughts are getting the best me and in my inebriated state, I go willingly with them to the darkest place I have ever been._

I hastily carve another gash into my arm slightly above the first; it never helps as much as I want it to. I grab for the only bathroom towel I seem to own to put some pressure on my wounds and as I slump over to lay my head on the bath mat, I keep thinking to myself that i need to get my pills.

_I am too weak to move. Between the alcohol and the blood loss, I just can't will myself to move an inch._

"Get the fuck up, Dallon! God damn you can't even do THIS right?!"  I am literally berating myself out loud at this point and with a quiet sob I start to close my eyes.

_Always a fucking quitter I think, too vividly._

I start to slip into a state of unconsciousness and in my inebriated state I opened my eyes and try to remember when I bought a red floor mat for the bathroom.

"Alcohol really does thin your blood." I half laugh to myself.

"Oh...”

“Oh, dammit..."

 

Tears are welling in my eyes and slowly falling down my cheek and sliding past my ears.

I start to panic a bit, this wasn't my plan, and it wasn't supposed to be messy!

 

I wanted to at least afford that to whomever found me.

"Oh shit..." is the last thing I remember saying before i slipped into darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't wait until the 2nd....


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon is a mess and the band will always be there for him...

 

_My vision is really fuzzy._

 

My head hurts so badly and my arm, what I can move of it, seems to be stuck to the cheap carpet fibers of my now red bath mat.  

 

 _What the fuck time is it?  What Day is it?_ I think.

 

Just then, I start to think my brain is playing tricks on me. I could hear a faint song in what seemed like the far, far distance. It was so familiar yet, I couldn't quite place it.

_Shit, that’s my ringtone and cliche as it seems. It’s our song, “Always” (the chorus of it at least)._

 

“Fuck!”  I mutter as I realize that it is _Brendon’s_ ringtone. _He changed it to "Always" one night while we were on tour. He thought it was hilarious and I kind of got a kick out of it too. I never changed it because well, it was a really sweet gesture at the time and hearing it always made me smile._

 

I am _really_ weak at this point, although I am just now realizing exactly how much. I try to fish my phone from my pocket and finally manage to grasp it on the last ring.

_I am sure he will call back, Brendon is nothing if not a persistent son of a bitch._

I lay my head back down and try to recall what the hell happened when my phone rings again.  

 

“Hello…uh um, Hi?”  My voice is raspy and tired as I attempt to sound a little more lucid than I really was.

 

“Hey buddy, Did I wake you? What’s up?! Look, I am at your door, could you let me in? I know it’s only like 11:30 but, I am fucking bored out of my mind.“, he laughs.

 

I don't even think he took a breath as he blurted all that out.  

 

_Damn, what the hell am I supposed to do now?! I can't let him see me like this!_

 

Just as I start to tell him I'd be out in a few minutes, my world goes black.

 

 ***

I am awoken, violently by Brendon shaking me. I think he is crying, actually. I open my eyes as much as I can physically muster and he starts yelling.

 

“WHAT THE FUCKING HELL DID YOU DO, DALLON?! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!”  “Oh my god, Dall. Oh my god.” He is screaming at me as he scoops me into his arms. He’s dialing the phone and I am praying it’s not for an ambulance.

 

“Hey, Spence, are you still in town?” he is trying really hard not to cry but, he is losing his composure, his voice is breaking.

 

“Good, man. Uh…hey, is Kenny with you?  Good, good, I need you guys right now, please?” his voice is desperate and pleading. 

“Uh yea, it’s Dallon, come to his apartment, yeah east side. No, it's- No, I just need you, Okay? Hurry, please, Spence, please?” 

 

_My heart sinks. I don’t want them to know._

 

He drops the phone and starts to sob into my hair, my head now resting in his lap. I am more awake now, and _very_ aware of the hurt I have caused this man, my friend, my confidant. I feel tears running down my face.

 

“B, I’m sorry-” I start to say but I am cut off by Brendon.

 

“Shhhh, Dall, shhhh. We’ll get through this, Okay? Me and the guys, we'll help you. Just shhh” he whispers, running his fingers through my hair.

 

He then picks me up like a baby and carries me to the bedroom, I have no idea how he does this as I must be twice his size.  Cleans my arm off and tells me to rest as I hear a frantic knock on the front door.

 

“I’ll be right back, Dall, okay?” as he hurries to the door.

 

I can hear him open it and close it after Spence and Kenny are already inside.

 

“Okay, you wanna tell me what the fuck is going on, Brendon?”  And that’s Spencer for you, not really one to mince words.

 

“Uh, um, we had plans to do something today and he didn't answer and then when he did he just stopped talking so I found the spare key and came inside. Guys, I think he tried to kill himself last night.” and that’s when I hear him break down, sobbing as the guys try to comfort him.

 

“Wait, what!? Dallon? Why do you think that?” Spencer says almost skeptically.  “Come on, dude! That is ridiculous! You're probably over exaggerating!”

 

“Well then go look in the fucking bathroom for your damn self and tell me what you think?! Fuck!”

 

_Brendon sounds so defeated at this point and my heart is racing._

 

“Fine! I swear to god you are so overdramatic.” Spencer practically yells.  Kenny must have decided to go investigate too as I hear footsteps then two gasps.

“What. The. Fuck?” I hear Kenny almost whisper.

“Oh my god...” is the only thing Spencer says.

“I know. Dude, I know” Brendon’s voice carries from the living room but, it sounds miles away.

 

_All I want to do now is die. I can't believe I am causing this much worry and heartache._

 

I can feel eyes staring at me from the doorway. I can’t look. I don’t even want them to speak to me. I feel so fucking ashamed right now.

 

“Dallon? Hey, Dall.”

_It’s Spencer. I don’t want to look at him._

 

I feel the bed shift and then a hand on my right hip.

 

“Dall, please look at me? Please?”

 

I turn over to see Spencer sitting on my bed. His eyes are red from crying.

 

_I can't take this._

 

“Hey, Dall, um... “ He smiles at me but, I know that look. “What’s going on, man? What happened?”  

 

“Can you get Brendon and Kenny ? I..I… please?” I managed to get that much out.

 

He pauses as if he is is unsure, then stands to leave the room. I can hear him whispering to them but I can't make out what they are saying exactly.

 

I close my eyes and hear them walking in. When I open them, Brendon has my notebook in his hands.  

 

He doesn't say anything yet but walks towards my bed, leans in and whispers softly, _“Please don't leave me Dallon, I can't do this without you.“_  His words cut through me like daggers.  

 

“I didn't mean it, I didn't! I wasn't going to do it that way, I promise.”  I am almost a hysterical mess at this point.

 

“That way?!” Kenny interjects, “ That way?! So, you planned on killing yourself last night, but not by bleeding to death, which you almost fucking did by the way but, how then, Dallon? For fucks sake! You better start spilling your secrets right fucking now, Weekes!”

 

 

Kenny never shows emotion and I am taken aback by this, Spence and Bren look like they are too and even with the gravity of the situation, I almost laugh.

 

“Fuck, I stopped taking my meds on tour. I saved all of them, except the ones Bren made me take when I had the panic attack. I kept them where no one could find them. I was going to Overdose. I got drunk when I got home yesterday and I started cutting again and I must have passed out. That’s all.”

 

“That’s all?!”, Kenny says but he is cut off by Spencer.

 

“Wait, what meds? What the fuck do you mean that you've cut yourself before?!” Spencer asks inquisitively.

 

I must have looked like a deer in headlights because suddenly Brendon says “uh, he’s been really depressed and anxious in the past and uh…more so lately, he cut while we were on tour but… but, I thought he and I were handling it just fine. I guess we were wrong. I was wrong. I was wrong.  I didn't know he wasn't taking his meds like I thought he was. I am so sorry, you guys. I should have told you, we're family and I blew it and I’m sorry and…”

 

Brendon slinks to the floor and all I can hear is him sobbing as Spencer tries to console him.

 

Kenny centers himself on the side of the bed and then hugs me. I wasn't expecting it from him so it made me tear up. He looks at me with soft eyes and says, “Yea, we are family and when one of us is hurting, we all are. We’ll get you help, Dallon. I think we can all agree to that and we will do everything we can to make sure this doesn't go to press...ever! I have to tell Zack though. He is going to have to amp up security. Sorry, Dall.”

 

They all nod their heads and Brendon is now visible from his position on the floor. 

 

“Dallon, we love and trust you but, you aren't living on your own while you go through this, okay? You and Brendon can find a place together or you two can stay with Kenny and I but, no one is to be on their own anymore, got it?” Spencer’s voice was stern; he always was the mother hen of the group.

 

“I… yeah, alright, I guess.” I stammered and Brendon places a soft hand on my shoulder.

“Dude, I am so sorry you felt like that. I am never going anywhere from now on. You'll get sick of me being around 24/7 but, I don't care dude.” 

He laughs but, his words are so sincere and it’s really nice to hear right now. My arm hurts so badly and I am starving as Spence and Ken find their way to the living room to give Brendon and I some space.

 

“Um ,Dallon? Is what you wrote in that notebook, how you really feel? “he kind of mutters his words.

 

_Oh shit! I forgot about that!_

 

“Uh, kind of, B… can we talk about it tomorrow? Can you just lay with me right now? Please?”

I whispered it almost hoping he didn't hear me.

“Yea, yea, come here.” He pulls me close to him and I drift to sleep. 

 

_Is this what being loved feels like?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of destruction...

Brendon stayed with me until the weekend while we found a townhouse to rent.

He wasn't happy in his apartment anyways, _so he says_.

Spencer took me to an urgent care clinic on the edge of town to make sure my wounds were properly attended to and luckily there wasn't any real damage done. He also drove me to my therapist’s office and while I have a feeling she had already spoken to one of the guys about what happened, she still felt the need to make me recant those 48 hours to her in full detail which was embarrassing and heartbreaking considering Spence was in her office with me. He gave my shoulder a squeeze and his soft meaningful look made me feel infinitely better. 

 

“Mr. Weekes, you really need to start taking your mental health a little more seriously.” She has a way of scolding me but, with the nicest words possible.

 

“Do you want your friend to leave while we discuss this?" She says with a tone only a therapist can have.

 

“No, he can stay. He’s family, he’s like my brother.” 

 

“Okay then Dallon, you need to listen very closely to what I am telling you, okay?”

_I nod with understanding and I can tell that Spencer is taking mental notes._

 

“You are responsible for your own mental health, Dallon and while thankfully you have what seems to be a very caring support system, you need to be aware of your triggers. If you start to get stressed, you need to take some time to talk it out with someone or with me. You have my cell number, right? If you start to lose your sense of “who you are”, as you so put it, you need to let someone know. Even having someone with you 24/7, we often can’t see into the minds of others, Mr. Weekes. There is a lot of trust in this but, letting your band mates and close friends know what some of your triggers are can be very helpful in avoiding them, hmm?”

 

Spencer is nodding and gives me a half smile. 

 

“Now, I want you to keep compliant with your meds. I know you don’t like them but, it evens you out, Dallon. I promise they are a good thing. I have a feeling your friends won’t let you forget to take them.”

 

She laughs at this and again Spencer is nodding.

 

_Suddenly,_ _I start to feel like a 5 year old that won’t take their cough syrup._

“I want to see you once a week until you are going back on tour, and then we are to have a phone conference every two weeks unless you are overseas. In that case, I would like you to at least email me to let me know how you are doing, okay?  Strictly confidential, Mr. Weekes, I promise.”

 

I shake it off as we leave her office. Spence looks at me and I look at him. We both know how badly this could have gone but, he’s glad I am here and right now, I am too.

 

This is how my life has been for the past 8 months. Only now, Brendon has been going with me to see my therapist since Spencer and Kenny are still out of town. After our attempt to get back in the studio shortly after what happened, and it being a complete disaster, we've just been laying low and keeping to ourselves. Brendon makes sure I am keeping compliant with my meds and honestly, he is a fucking stickler for making me take them. It's such a pain in the ass but, I know how much he cares so, I do love him for that.

Every day he sits my pills on the place mat at our breakfast bar and watches as I swallow them with a swig of OJ. I even stick my tongue out at him one day just to show him they are gone. 

 

“You really are just a petulant 4 year old stuck in a gigantic man’s body, aren't you?!” He is laughing hysterically.

 

“Well, I thought maybe you wanted some proof!” I say, as I laugh with him.  He throws his head back, laughs and we eat our breakfast in mostly silence.

 

_I wonder what I would do without him some days._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter but I *promise* there is a really great one coming up soon and you will be more than pleased! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time...

He is so silly and now he and his silly self are still draped across me on our couch. My head in his lap and his hand on my chest touching me lightly as I am fighting the urge for sleep.

He taps my hand softly with his and says “Dall, can we, um... can you go upstairs with me?”

I lay silent, the silence always kills him.

"Psst, Dall, did you hear me?"

“Mmmhmmm, sure B...What for?”  I say smirking as the words fall from my lips.

He wiggles his eyebrows at me in a not so subtle gesture but, I get the message as he is practically dragging me up the stairs in our townhouse.

"Whoa, Bren, easy!" I laugh as he nearly makes me trip onto the landing.

We hit the bedroom doorway and he is kissing me, pinning me against the wall as he slowly lifts my shirt over my head. Our lips part for the briefest of seconds so he can slide the shirt between them. He tosses it to the floor and starts to explore my chest and waistline with his callused fingertips, ever so softly running them on an invisible track from my sternum to my bellybutton.

I start to feel a very certain need deep down and I am now kissing back with some urgency as if to tell him I am okay with all of this. Our eyes lock and He seems to understand me as he is now trying to unbutton my jeans and slide the zipper down but with little progress.

“Jesus Christ, Dallon…” he whispers breathlessly. 

_His face has a glow about him that I have never seen before; his eyes are half closed in an almost trance like state._

“Yes, my son?” I joke with him.

He sighs and pushes my shoulders down into the wall a bit harder, “Shut up, Dall!”

I smirk back into his deep brown eyes as he starts to move us closer to his bed. Then all at once, he is laying on top of me, biting and sucking at my collarbone and digging his fingertips into the soft spot on my hips so hard that I am certain there will be bruises tomorrow.

I am moaning into his neck and using my fingers to feel the vertebrae along his spine, like a blind person reads braille.

 If he were a book it would only have one word: “perfect”.

He is well built, very lean, and I am trying hard to focus on him as my breathing starts to hitch. He is tracing my rib cage with his expertly maneuvered tongue and I am smitten.  His hands seem to know all the right places to linger and soon I am unable to stand it any longer.

“B… Bren!” his name rushes from my mouth as I try to assess this situation.

“Bren, please, please, I want- _need_ you.”

“Dall, oh fuck, Dall…” he is barely coherent but, I can feel him nod against my chest; his hot, moist breath sticking to me like honey. He switches his position and slides his body down mine to in between my legs, feverishly trying to undo my belt buckle and starts to slowly pull my pants and boxers down together. I reach up to undo his and he already has them halfway off by the time my fingers touch his waistline.

He is once again lying on top of me. Kissing and sucking on whatever skin he can get to. Two warm bodies, melting into one from the energy of sheer passion. It is exciting and nerve-wracking all at the same time.

_I can’t take it any longer!_

 

I grab his hair in my hands and guide his head down, his breathing speeds up and he starts to take a hint.

One hand is grabbing at me almost frantically and the other is loosely stroking me as his tongue glides along the tip of my cock.

 

_He's all mouth... and hands... and my god, does he know how to use both of them._

 

"Dallon, tell me what you want; tell me how you like it." He has a domineering grin spread across his face. His eyes are piercing through mine as if he can see through my soul.

"Fuck me Brendon... Please, Please?" 

_I am desperate and needy and I am trying to will this gorgeous man to fuck me this instant._

_I have never felt this with anyone in my life. It all feels so animalistic and raw and I love every second of it._

He's taking his time, working me into a tight ball of intense emotion.  He pauses and reaches into his nightstand producing a small bottle of lube and a condom.

I can barely hear him opening the foil and then the slight sound of liquid being dispensed onto his fingers.

_I am literally going to tear him apart if I have to wait any longer._

"Brendon Urie, hurry the fuck up!" I am almost shouting at him. The intensity of what I am feeling is eating me alive.

"Shhhh. I've got you, babe, okay? Hold still for me? Mmm...fuck... Do you feel that, Dall? One finger... mmmm... ready for two? "

"Yes, oh god- oh shit!" I can barely speak. I don't even know if I am forming words or just making noises at this point.

His fingers are caressing me in every amazing way possible as he slides them in and out, opening me in a way that this feeling could only be described in depth by the likes of poets with thesauruses.

He slowly retracts his fingers and he is positioning me with my knees pulled slightly towards my chest.

"Ready?" The pure passion in his eyes almost makes me lose control right then.

"Yes, yes, please? I need you, Brendon."

Within seconds, his body is meeting mine in the most incredible way, slowly penetrating me while filling me with a fullness that I've never felt before. He is building momentum and soon all I can concentrate on is the sound our skin makes when it meets. It's beautiful, _he is beautiful_ and it doesn't take long before we are both peaking our orgasms.

Brendon is first, his body shaking, his eyes so far back in their eye sockets he looks possessed. He's making these guttural, primal noises and it's the hottest thing I have ever witnessed. He's leaned forward, almost collapsing on my chest and the sight of him catapults me over the edge, moaning his name as I come on the both of us.

 

_We are both panting, sweating, and looking at each other as if we just reinvented love...reunited it with two hearts that are connected by passion and sincerity._

 

As we lay down next to each other in our post coital high, I turn to see him staring at me like he really wants to say something.

"Brendon, what's up? Whatcha thinkin?"

"About how much I love you, Dallon. You almost left me in this world alone, I am so grateful that you are here with me. I love you." He has tears in his eyes.

"Brendon, I love you so much. More than I can even explain and I honestly- I am trying  _really_  hard to work on my demons. Just stick with me... will you?" I whisper, my voice weak.

_I don't want him to see me cry..._

"Dall, I'm not leaving... ever. Like, you better get his and his towels because I am never leaving!"  He is laughing so hard. His nose crinkled and his eyes screwed shut.

He pulls me close to his chest and takes my hand in his, places it over my heart. 

"Do you feel that? That is purpose, Dallon! You have something to live for." He places his other hand over my own still on my chest, "Now, so do I."

 

I feel so overwhelmed and heavy with emotion that I just rest my head in the crook of his neck. Just hearing him breathe is comforting.

 

_So, why are all these dark thoughts flooding back to me?_

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an emotional chapter. Stick with me, loves...
> 
>  
> 
> "I can do this right? ... I owe him that much"

****

 

_We're lying in bed under sheets._

_We're exhausted._

_We're in love._

 

He is breathing softly and falling asleep with his head on my shoulder, his hand in mine, curled next to me like he has no cares in the world. 

Yet, _I_ keep thinking about what he told me. 

_Purpose? What purpose do I have? I have hurt him beyond words in the few years we have known each other and I feel guilty about every bit of it.  I can't let things go even if I wanted to._

_How could he love me? What do I have to offer him?_

 

_So, is this what love feels like?_

 

Because I _feel_ like I have our tour bus parked on my chest and suddenly the air feels thick, it is _way_ too hot in this bed.

I sit up quickly, my heart is racing and I feel like I am going to crawl out of my skin. I stand up and make my way down the stairs, almost desperate to find distance between me and those sheets, that room, that bed. Every breath I inhale, feels like it is going to be my last. I lean against the couch trying to balance myself, but my legs are too weak to hold my shaking body as I crumple into a rag-doll like mass onto the hardwood. My face feels icy against the burning tears that are beginning to stream down. This is not how I wanted tonight to end.

 

_I fade out of reality._

I don't know how long I have been huddled on the living room floor, but it seems like _hours_ when I faintly hear Brendon running down the stairs. He stops cold, falling on to his knees beside me.

"Dall, babe, what's the matter? What's going on?" he is worried, his voice is a little too high pitched, slightly broken. 

"Dallon!" He is directing my face with his hands, "Look at me, Dallon. Breathe!" 

_I see his familiar shape. My vision is hazy and I can't quite make out everything he is saying,_ _although it seems frantic. All I can focus on is my heartbeat racing in my ears, it’s loud and it’s fast like a broken metronome._

"Baby, look at me!" He is almost yelling at me as I lock eyes with him. "Hey... there you are! Hey, baby, what's the matter? What happened?" His voice is much softer now, as if he is talking with a child and while most people would find this condescending, it actually really helps me. 

“It’s going to be okay, Dall, I’m here… I’m here.” I am slowly starting to return to him and I notice how his eyes have this sadness to them.

_I did that to him, me. I made him upset and I start to feel sick._

“Talk to me babe, take a deep breath. Tell me what happened.” 

“I wish I knew.“, is all I manage to whisper.

_He is so close to me._

Holding me in his lap, our chests pressed together, my head on his shoulder, and all he says is “Shhh, Dall, shhh… It’s alright. We’ll get through this.”

Somehow I believe him. He makes me feel like I am not broken, like I matter. This is a feeling I have never had in my entire life and it’s so foreign to me but, I am starting to get used to it.

_I am feeling brave for it being such a vulnerable moment, so I sit up in his lap and look him in the eyes._

“I just felt really overwhelmed. I guess it was a panic attack? I don’t really know. It snuck up on me… I just… I … Brendon, what the hell is wrong with me?! Why do I feel so shitty all the time?! Why do you stay with me? How could you love…” My words just keep tumbling out until he pushes my shoulders back slightly so we are looking eye to eye.

“Dallon, stop!” He says it so firmly that I almost jump as he softly places his index finger over my lips to silence me. I sniffle and he wipes a forming tear from my eye.

“I won’t let you do this to yourself. I love you, _all of you._ I will help you whenever, however I can. I am in this with you, got it? I stay with you because you are _MY_ reason to get up in the morning, Dallon. You are _my_ world. I know that that feels like a lot of pressure, but I hope that with time, you come to see how much you mean to me; to the rest of the world. I want to grow old with you, get married, have kids, and watch every sunrise and sunset that the earth allows us. So, stop second guessing my best friend! Every bad dream, every tear, every panicked moment; I will be here for _all of it._ You _are_ worth it. You are _more_ than worth it, Dallon. You’re my- my _everything_.”

He can barely speak now as he is quietly breathing tiny sobs into my neck. I am curled into him, but I just can’t seem to get close enough.

_His heart is beating so fast, my doing; I did this._

“I love you so much, Bren. I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry I am like this.”  

“Shhh, Dall. Shhh. Do you want to go to bed or do you want to sleep down here?”

“Here- let’s sleep here, Bren.” I stick my bottom lip out in a pout. 

He laughs as he flicks his finger on my lip and the gesture makes me smile.

“There’s my boy! I love your smile, Babe.”

He picks me up off the floor and we climb onto the couch. Brendon lays behind me, curling his arm around my waist and pulling me close to him. Just being held, feeling safe in his arms, is enough to quiet the noise in my head for now. 

“Dall, it’s going to be alright.” He whispers into my neck, kissing me softly, “I promise you, you’ll be okay. Sweet dreams, love.”

“Love you, B.” 

I start to drift off to sleep as I hear Brendon’s breathing start to slow and he lets out a content sigh as he relaxes his grip on me, just slightly.

 

_I can do this… right? I can try at least, I owe him that much._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long night of feeling down, Dallon does his best to show Brendon how much he appreciates him.

 

I am awoken by Brendon softly running his fingers through my hair. He is quietly humming something familiar (Sinatra maybe?) and it’s a pretty great way to wake up, actually. I lay there for a few more minutes just because he seems so happy; I don’t want to ruin it for him.

I start to stir a little just to let him know I am awake and he greets me by nuzzling the back of my neck, kissing me lightly just behind my ear.

“How ya feelin’ sleepy head?” He’s whispers  into my ear.

“I feel a lot better than last night. Again, I am so sorry Bren.”

“Hush!” He says “I am glad you feel better; what would you like to do today? Spencer and Kenny are back in town now if you want to see them?”

“Sure, whatever you want to do?” it’s almost a question, but I know he will ask me again.

“No, what do YOU want to do today, Dall? We’re going to start working in the studio again tomorrow, so last day of unorganized freedom!” He is leaning over me now, starts to position himself so that he is laying on top of me, his chin on my chest looking up at me with wide eyes.

“Hmmm, I could think of a few things!”  I wink at him as seductively as I can and he lets out a laugh.

“Well, after that!” he exclaims.

“Um, actually, I’d like to hang with you and the guys if that’s okay? See them again before we start getting down to business?”

“Okay! I’ll call Spence after we shower.” he gives me a sideways stare and draws up an eyebrow on the word “shower”.

_Good lord! If looks alone could kill, his beautifully seductive eyes may very well be the way I meet my demise._

I start to stand and turn back towards the couch, “Shall we?” I ask as I offer him my hand to help him stand.

“We shall, Dall!”

“Well, aren't you a regular Dr. Seuss this morning! Better save those eloquent words for your lyrics, my dear!” I say with a chuckle, “C’mon, we’re wasting daylight here!”

“You are so bossy!” he smirks

“You love it though, right?”  I ask, teasingly.

“Yea, I kinda do." He smirks. "How about you _show_ me how bossy you can be, Dallon... Hmmm?” He says this as we are passing through the doorway into the bathroom on the second floor, his right eyebrow arched high in an inquisitive suggestion.

“Doesn't really sound like much of a challenge, but fine! Strip, now!” I say in my most dominating voice.

_This is admittedly not dominant in the slightest._

He laughs at me and I give him quite possibly the most evil look I have in my repertoire,

“Yes, sir!”

He starts disrobing and in true Brendon form, he is doing it as dramatically as possible. Slowly and very deliberately, his gorgeous eyes are holding my gaze while I watch him discard his sweat pants on the cold tile floor.

As I turn on the faucet and the hot water starts to build steam, the doors of the shower begin to fog.

“Well, now what?  Hmmm?” a smirk appears on his face as he starts to walk towards me, biting his bottom lip in a way that is making want to jump him right now.

“Fuck, just get in the damn shower, dude!” I laugh at him. He frowns like he was expecting more.  “I’ll let you wash me?” I add, as he starts to make his way under the warm water as I step into the bath tub and close the door behind us.

“That sounds like a plan! C’mere.” He grabs the washcloth and starts to wash my shoulders and then my back. I have this intense desire to feel his skin against mine as I move closer to his body. He pulls me into a strong embrace and I feel my worries start to vanish as he holds me as close as he can. 

_How am I so lucky to have found this man? He is truly the best thing that has happened to me, ever._

My head falls back to his shoulder and he is nuzzling his chin into the crook between my neck and collarbone.  His breath feels hot even under the warm water and I start to feel my desire for him beginning to build. A small moan escapes from my lips as he kisses my neck.

  
“Hmmm? What’s the matter, babe?” his embrace is getting tighter and I can now feel him getting hard behind me.

“Just happy, Brendon. That’s all.” And I mean it for once in a long time. Being here with him and having him here, means the world.

“I love hearing you say that, Dall.” His voice is barely audible and he starts to lessen his embrace as I turn around.

I grip his length in my hand as it brushes against my thigh, stroking him as I plan my next move.

He starts to move his pelvis towards me, effectively fucking my hand. He looks at me with a look that can only mean one thing so I start remove my hand and begin lowering my body so I am on my knees.

His hands are making their way to my hair, pulling his fingers though and winding the damp strands around them in a fist.  I slowly start to flick my tongue against the tip of his penis and he tightens his grip on my hair, moving my head closer to his body, I take him into my mouth. Swirling my tongue around the head and sucking along the shaft as he moves it in and out, fucking my mouth at his own rhythm.

“Fuck, Dallon, fuck...” It’s almost not  _actual_  words, but I can pick them out. He starts picking up the pace as he puts both hands on my head and guides my mouth along his shaft.

_I love how he feels in my mouth. The his salty taste permeating my tongue as I hear him start to moan a little louder._

"Dallon, so good. So fucking good.” His praise makes me smile. He means it in such an earnest way and I am glad to make him happy. I move my hand to his cock and feel him start to pace himself a little more frantically. I take over for him, stroking him and running my thumb over the head.  

“So close! Fuck! So close!” He manages to squeak out. I take him into my mouth again and start to pull him in and out as far I can without choking. His body starts to shake and in less than a second he is filling my mouth and I swallow the best I can as he is pulling out.

I lick my lips and stand up to kiss him. He is breathing hard, fast, and his eyes are glazed over like he is high.

  
“Dallon. That. Was. So. Fucking. Hot. Wow.” Each of his words enunciated by a staccato beat that seems to be the only thing he can muster right now.

He pulls me into a tight hug and we start to finish our shower as the water starts to get cold.

He helps me out of the tub and as we begin to dry each other, he has the biggest smile on his face.

"I give, B. What's the smile for?" I ask

"Nothing, Dall, I just... Thank you." he says softly and kisses me on the forehead.

"Oh, and I plan to reciprocate the favor later." He breathes, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He pulls me close for another kiss and as I kiss him back, I shake my head at him and smile.

"Hey, B, don't forget to call Spence and Kenny after you get dressed!" I call to him as he is practically skipping to his bedroom to get his clothes.

"Yes, yes.. Whatever you saaaaay!" he yells back, almost sing-song.

 

_Well, he's in a good mood... for now..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have something pretty special planned for the next chapter.. keep with me.. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this chapter with a completely different intent but, I think this is important too. The next few Chapters are going to be pretty vital to this. Stay with me...

I finished cleaning up the bathroom and start heading to my bedroom to get dressed. I can hear Brendon on the phone with I can only assume to be Spencer.  Clearly at the end of their conversation, I stop quietly to eavesdrop just a bit.

 

“…Yeah, man. He’s been doing alright. Keeping the meds in check and all that, uh I don’t really know if he will or not, his choice ya know? Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s been a long time; do you guys want to come over tonight? Chill out and order in some food or whatever? Okay, yeah, 7ish? Cool, see you later. Yeah! Bye!”

 

 

“So, what did Spencer have to say?” I ask as he sets his phone down.  Turning around with a start he grumbles.  “Jesus fucking Christ, Weekes! Give a man a damn heart attack why don’t you!?”

 

I laugh as he sits down on his bed. “Sorry dude, I thought you heard me coming down the hall. Anyways, what’s up with Spencer? They gonna come over tonight?”

 

“Yeah, Spence said Kenny will come over a little later, he’s visiting with some relatives but, Spencer will be here around 7 or so.”

 

“Was he…uh, did he ask how I was?” there was a little hesitation in my voice. I knew the answer but, I also didn’t want to know exactly what was said before I walked in either.

 

“He asked if you were doing better. We haven’t really been keeping them informed of anything since they've been gone the past few weeks and he was just asking how you've been is all.”  He says this in his calming voice. The voice he uses when he wants everything to be “right” in the world.

 

“Oh, ok. I just… I’m alright, ya know? Like, no one has to keep an eye on me or be worried or anything, dude. Is it gonna be weird now? I don’t want anyone treating me like I am defective or anything. I mean, it’s bad enough that Zack wanted to hire an extra body guard but, fuck, Pete wanted us to have a damn Doctor on our next tour!? I mean, he has a lot of fucking nerve given his fucking past, right?!”

 

_These are all things I have been thinking and not saying. This wasn't supposed to come out like this, not in his bedroom, not in casual conversation._

_My heart starts beating faster and I am starting to feel sick._

I take a deep breath letting it out as slow as possible. Brendon is just staring at me.  I get the feeling he wants to say something but, I don’t give him the chance.

 

“Sorry.” I murmur. Not to him but in his general direction. I turn my head and just face the wall. I shouldn't get so upset that people want to make me feel safe in my own skin. I just don’t like being the center of attention.

 

“Hey. Dall, it’s fine. No one is trying to make you feel like you can’t be trusted or anything. We just want you to feel safe. You can come to us any time. You know that! Spencer wanted to talk with you later… Like one on one. I don’t know what about.  He was asking if I thought you would be up for it. He sounded a little “mom-ish.” He laughs “So, I told him it would probably be alright… Uh, is that okay?”

_He’s looking for validation that I can’t really give him but, I can fake it._

 

“Yeah, it’s fine. As long as he doesn't plan on getting mushy and shit. Fuck, do you remember the speech he gave halfway through the tour about how much he loved everyone and that he was so happy we were all in his lives and shit? We all thought he was wasted and he was just actually really super emo?!” We both laugh and Brendon is now laughing so hard he falls backward onto the bed. Face buried in his pillow.

 

“Oh god, that was great!” he says, wiping tears from his eyes. “I’ll talk to him when he gets here to see what he wants, Momma Smith can chill out if that’s where he was intending on going.” 

 

“Thank you. I don’t think I could handle that shit today. Uh, by the way, I forgot to take my meds, could you go get them for me? Please?”  I give him the saddest little puppy dog eyes and he gets up off the bed.

 

“Those eyes won’t work on me forever, dude…. But, right now they do, so... I’ll be right back” he smirks at me and runs down the stairs to the kitchen flying back through the doorway about 2 minutes later.

 

“Here babe, I got you some OJ too!” he says with a smile and hands me a small glass of juice and two pills. A small round Yellow pill and a capsule shaped peach colored pill. I stare at them in my hand and hesitate for a minute.

 

“What’s the matter?” he says.

 

“Nothing. I just hate taking them. I feel like a failure when I take them. Like, why I can’t be normal, you know?” I know I am frowning but, it’s helping my case.

 

_At least I thought it was._

 

“I know but, you have to take them. You have to get your moods regulated again, Dallon. The last meds weren't working; you have to at least _try_ these. So, come on, down they go!” he laughs and takes the pills from my hands and places them in my mouth, holding the glass to my lips until I wash them down.

 

“ _They make me tired, dude._ I feel less creative and shit. I don’t like that!” I pout.

 

“You promised your therapist you would stick this out for 6 weeks. It's only been 3, babe. If it’s still not helping then we can move onto something different but, I just don’t want a repeat of what happened before. Okay? I love you too much and I can’t lose you so, just please try? For me, for you?”  His voice is so sincere and I think he is starting to tear up.

 

_I pull him close to me. I don’t like him upset over me, I am not worth it._

 

“I know B, it’s just exhausting. This is the 27th med they have tried. Why can’t they just invent something new already?”

 

“I wish they would dude, I wish they would. But, until then, we try anything they can think of, for as long as you are willing. She said there was always ECT too.”

 

“Oh HELL NO!” I say with a flourish, “Have you seen the research on that? Induced seizure with a possibility of memory loss?! Nope!! Not happening!” I cross my arms over my chest in true temper tantrum form.

 

He laughs at me and kisses my forehead gently, “Duh, I know, dude! That’s why you _try_ these, okay? Now, let’s go get ready for Spencer and Kenny!”

 

He scoops me up off the bed and almost drops me to the floor. I gather my bearings and manage to get onto my feet before I land with a thud on the hardwood. He kisses my cheek and brushes the side of my face with the tip of his nose. 

 

He just stares at me and laughs, taking my hand and leading me downstairs to the living room to straighten up a bit before the boys arrive.

 

_I just want to feel normal. Is that really too much to ask?_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going well but, Dallons anxiety gets the best of him as they are getting ready to see Spencer and Kenny for the first time in a long time. He starts to think the worst and Brendon is there to help him out...

We’re straightening the house up; sharing silly grins and looks from across the room. We’re acting like his phone call with Spencer never happened but, it did and I want to know exactly what was said and in what context. How many more phone calls has there been? Does he talk to him a lot?  It’s starting to really irritate me to the point that I am now completely occupied with this thought, and I can’t let it go.

_“Fucking hell, why the fuck did I walk in on that conversation? Why?! “I think._

_I am starting to fucking lose my mind with these thoughts._

It’s getting close to time for Spence’s arrival but, there is a weird mix of anxiety and apprehension in me that is throwing my insides into a twist.  Brendon is off clearing the kitchen counters, humming a song to himself that I can’t quite place but it sounds oddly familiar. I decide I need to get some air before I suffocate.   I slide open the patio door to the backyard, stepping out onto the warm concrete, closing the door behind me.

 The mix of slight heat and summer air is surrounding me and I start to breathe in deeply and slowly, trying desperately to coerce my brain and body to calm the fuck down. 

I always think the worst. For some reason that I can’t willingly control, that is my go to when things get slightly shitty. My therapist calls it “Catastrophic Thinking” or some shit.  I call it being defensive, whatever; I really don’t want to ruin tonight though. I just want to stop thinking that something is fucking wrong with the band. Or is it that it’s me being in the band that is wrong?

I pace the sidewalk that leads to our side gate and back again, my mind is racing at these thoughts, I have to calm down before they get here. I begin to feel dizzy so I sit down on the step and place my head in my hands. Closing my eyes and breathing in just as slowly and deeply as before. I have to show them that I am stable enough for this. I want to be in the band, I want to make music with my best friends. Fuck what everyone else is going to think! I know that eventually this is going to be leaked. It’s inevitable but, I need to have the control over this situation.

_I am breathing. I am okay I tell myself. You can do this Weekes; you've gone through worse, just listen to what they have to say._

I just start to raise my head when I hear the door slide open behind me. I sit straight up and try to pretend that I am indeed not having an existential crisis on our back porch.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?”  He speaks to me as if he is trying not to disturb what I am doing but, there is an uncertainty in his voice.

“Oh, uh, I just needed some air is all? “It sounded more like a question and it was a little snarky for my usual self.

He sits down next to me, cautiously, as if he may trigger an impending explosion.

“I see. So, what’s the matter?” he says, cocking his head to look me in the eyes.

“Nothing… I mean well, I just got a bit anxious I guess, I mean it’s _me_ we’re talking about so, that’s nothing new, _right_?” the venom in those words wasn't exactly meant to be there but, I can’t take it back so, I go with it.

“I will always just be the broken one, right? The fragile fucking Dallon Weekes, hmm?” my words are getting louder and more pointed, “Why the fuck do I feel like I fucked everything up, B?”

He sucks in a deep breath and I know where this is going.

“Seriously?” he laughs.

 I am just opening my mouth to ask what the fuck he thinks is so funny when he breathes out and says, “You are worried about nothing, Dallon, and no I am not fucking laughing at YOU before you even try to say I am.” 

He takes his arm and snakes it around my waist pulling my rib cage into a tight sideways hug.

“Relax, babe, seriously. You are putting way too much thought into this and it’s not needed. Spencer and Kenny are _just_ coming over to relax and hang out before we get back to the grind and start hating each other next week for “creative differences.” He grins and I start to relax my overly tense body under his strong embrace.  He moves his head to the crook of my neck and whispers to me, “Baby, I promise you, it’s going to be fine. Okay? “

“No, It’s not going to be fine, Brendon!” I lock eyes with him. His eyes are dark and inviting.

_I know that look._

“Stop it Dallon, just fucking stop thinking for five minutes and trust me?”

 His hot breath on my neck is distracting me, and I manage to squeak a small   “Okay” as he closes in on me with his mouth.

I lean into him wrapping my arms around his torso as he kisses the soft spot at the base of my neck. I whimper quietly as he begins lick a small circle with his tongue and then nips at the skin on my collarbone.

“Bren , fuck! Spencer is going to be here any minute, plus we’re on the back porch!”  My words are falling on deaf (and apparently rather horny) ears. “Mmmh, mmmhmmm” he groans.

“Come on, Bren, can we at least go inside? Our neighbor is nosy as fuck and I do not need a picture of us fucking in the backyard on the internet later!” I say, grabbing at his side. He stops and grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet, opening the door in the same swift move.  He jerks me through the doorway, using his foot to slide the door closed behind us. He is tugging me by the wrist to the couch as we both fall over the arm unceremoniously.  My back is pressed into the couch… hard. His hands are digging into my hips and his lips are crushed against mine as he tries to deter us both from the previous conversation. His erection is evidently preventing him from speaking actual words as all I can get from him are moans and groaning that seem really intense and sexy as fuck.

“Bren” I moan, “Bren stop for a second, I can’t breathe in this position.”  He stops, shifts his weight so that we are both lying slightly sideways, and he is running his fingers through the hair on the back of my head, guiding my neck and pulling me closer to his mouth. “Better?” he whispers “mmmm yeah this is better.” He says not even waiting for me to answer. I laugh against his lips and suck softly until I feel his body shifting again. His fingers are digging into my hips and I excitedly anticipate the bruises that are sure to follow; tiny purple souvenirs of Brendon Urie’s passion.  He is grinding into me. The friction of his weight against my dick and his jeans rubbing on mine in the best way possible; is bringing me close to the edge… fast.

  _He knows me better than anyone; he knows how to get me going._

He starts to slide down my body just a little, his fingers moving from my hips to my zipper. Expertly and quickly undoing my jeans and pulling them down past my hips. His breathing is picking up and soon all I feel is his mouth slowly enveloping me. Flicking his tongue over the head and licking up the side of my shaft with a firm wet glide. It feels so good, so perfect. He picks up speed- essentially fucking his mouth with my dick as I start to arch my back off the couch, it’s just so much sensation right now, I can’t hold off much longer.

“So good, Dallon. You taste so good.” He coos at me with a smile forming on his lips even though they are stretched wide around my cock.

“Fuck, I am going to come Bren!” I shout. My words that are half bitten off by pleasure as I soon start to come into his mouth. He swallows every drop and pulls off of me with a wet slide of his tongue. He grins at me and snakes his way back up my torso, kissing me hard and collapsing onto my chest. We lay there as our breathing starts to even out. His face tucked into my neck and my hand resting on his lower back as I lazily draw invisible circles with my index finger.

“Bren, I really hate to leave this love fest but, Spencer really _is_ going to be here any minute.” I say fondly.

He kind of hums at me with that “post-sex-blissed-out” gaze and starts to lethargically push himself off of me when the doorbell rings and scares the shit out of both of us.

We both sit straight up and are off the couch in seconds. I am pulling my pants up and trying to button them back up as fast as I possibly can.

“Fuck! I hate when that happens! Can you get the door before I pee myself?” Brendon says as he runs toward the bathroom.

I open the door on the third knock, laughing hysterically where I am greeted by Spencer who looks at me with a thoroughly confused face. All I can manage to get out is “I think he peed himself!”

“Did not! I DID NOT pee myself!” I hear Brendon say as he walks up from behind me and waves Spencer into the living room as I close the door behind him.

“Uh, did I miss something? Actually, I don’t even want to know. “Spencer says, smirking.

“The doorbell scared the shit out of Brendon and he nearly peed himself! So, not a whole lot?” I say nonchalantly as I shrug my shoulders and smile.

We head over to the living room , Spencer takes a seat on the love seat and Brendon and I sit on the couch.

“Oookay… Well, It’s good to hear you laugh again so, I guess the terms don’t matter much. “He says.

Shit, he wants to do this now? I think.                                                                      

“Yeah, I’m happier, man. Thanks for noticing. I’m doing, fine.”  I say a little quieter than I intended but none the less just as sincere.

I quickly glance to Brendon who looks like he has no clue as what to say or do.

That, in itself, makes me a little more nervous. Since when does Brendon not have anything to say?

“So…” Brendon finally manages to say, “How are your parents? How was your trip?” 

“The same, dude.  Mom says to tell you “Hi” by the way.” His mouth forms a slight smirk, “She also told me to tell you to “stay out of trouble and to stop doing those back flips, he’s going to hurt himself one day!” Spencer manages to impersonate his mother absolutely perfectly; it’s a little unnerving actually.

“Ha! Well, tell her I’ll try not to hurt myself but, I can’t guarantee anything. Besides, when have I ever listened to parental advice?” Brendon laughs a little too loudly at that but, it’s true, and he doesn't listen to anyone, really.

 

“I’ll be sure to pass that along, dude.” he lets out an exasperated sigh as he speaks, looking directly at me as if he is unsure of what to say next. The next few moments of silence are awkward to say the least but, I can’t stand it any longer.  Apparently, neither can Brendon.

“So, I’m gonna run out and get some food, is Chinese okay?”  He blurts out as he stands to get his car keys.

“Yes!” Spencer and I both manage to say in unison, Brendon laughs ,“I’ll be back in a little bit, play nicely, boys!” and walks out the door leaving Spencer and I alone in the same room for the first time, in a long time.

We sit in silence for a minute or two. I look at him, he looks at me and he keeps opening his mouth as if he wants to say something but, the words are eluding him somehow. He is staring idly at the arm of the couch. I glance to it and realize that there is a quarter sized spot of cum that must have missed Brendon’s mouth. _Shit!_ I am dying on the inside but, this conversation needs to happen so, I leave it for now.  I let him sit for another minute though because it’s killing me that he is being so fucking taciturn about all of this and that is very unlike him.

_I give up! My anxiety is killing me and this is completely ridiculous!_

“Spencer Smith, just fucking say it already!” I didn't intend those words to sound as aggressive as they just had but, I decide to stick to my new found assertiveness and stare at him until he speaks.

“Well” he says quietly, “Uh, how are you doing? I mean like, with therapy and everything? Are you going to be alright in the studio? Pete was asking me about you and I don’t want to add too much pressure to you. It’s just that everyone keeps asking and they were thinking that uh…well… Just, are you alright? “Words of fear and concern are spilling from his mouth at a blinding speed. 

“Look, Spence, I appreciate the fact that everyone is worried but, I am fine. I promise.” He looks a little relieved. “Truth be told, I am happy with how life is right now despite being ordered around by Brendon Urie every day like a toddler” I mumble. He starts to laugh because he knows how annoying it can be to have Brendon watching over you 24/7.

“But, I digress. I need to get back into music again or I won’t keep my “sanity” for very long, dude.”

_My words are slightly broken by some unexpected emotions that I wasn't even aware I possessed any longer._

“I just want to feel like what I am doing, my purpose in life, matters. Making music is pretty much all I know so, if you are here to try to take that away from me, I won’t allow it! I heard Brendon on the phone with you and he was hinting that you wanted to talk with me. I told him I had a bad feeling about this. I really hope that’s not what this is about.” 

“Um, okay, I guess I am just going to put this out here so we can move past this, Okay, Dallon? I need to say this and you need to listen. Please?” 

_Fuck! The way he says this makes my heart feel as if it is going to leap out of my chest. But, I nod and let him continue._

His face gets softer and his eyes are staring into me, like when you are in trouble as a child. A wall of disappointment is crashing into me as he begins to speak.

“Dallon, that day after tour, um-” He clears his throat and takes a deep breath.

 “That day at your apartment, I was so scared.” 

He stops speaking for a moment and looks away from me.

“I was so fucking mad at you for doing that, and for not telling the rest of us that you needed help, and for…for... for me not fucking seeing any goddamn signs!”  He’s loud. Not yelling but, loud at this point. His hands are balled into a fist and I don’t know what to do.

“How the fuck did you keep all of this shit secret for so fucking long, Dallon, how? I feel like a _goddamn_ idiot! We are supposed to be watching out for each other and we let this happen?  I can’t let this shit happen, dude! So how, tell me how the fuck did this get past us all? Well?” 

_His fingers are combing through his hair like the frustration of this is too much for him, too real._

_And now, he is looking me dead in the eye._

_Shit, he is expecting an answer._

_My hands are clammy, my stomach has flipped itself over far too many times now and I start to feel sick._

“Please? Can you fucking answer me Dallon, Fuck!” he’s now shouting at me but his voice starts to break, and I go still. My breathing pattern is erratic, my vision is a little hazy right now but, I need to get past this too. I take a deep breath and let it out really slowly. Okay, I can do this. But, out of nowhere, my eyes start to well up, and my heart starts to beat just a bit faster.  I take another deep breath but, I can’t stop the tears from falling. I wipe my eyes with my T-shirt; take another deep breath and when I look at Spencer, he looks a little shaken. 

“I am sorry. I am so fucking sorry! I thought I was in a good place and I wasn't. It was a mistake to stop taking my meds. I know that. I know that you guys are supposed to be my best friends in the world and I basically shut everyone out but Brendon. I really apologize for all of that, I really do. I think about how all of that went down, how much time you all took to make sure I got back on my feet. I don’t think I will ever be able to properly articulate into words how much that meant to me… means to me. And I know I am a fucking disappointment, Spencer but, please, let me stay in this band! I need this, man. Please.” I turn away from him; I am such a fucking mess right now.

_Take a deep breath, Dallon. I tell myself. Its fine you can figure something out, maybe be a tech for someone? Oh, fuck…_

“Wait, whoa! Dall, no. Oh my god, fuck! C’mere, dude. I shouldn't have gotten so upset. I am just frustrated; I just don’t want to lose you.”  He gets up from the loveseat and sits next me. He pulls me close to him and cradles my head against his chest with his hand, “Damn, no I just wanted to make sure you were ok. That’s all, we were discussing holding off on recording for a bit if you weren't ready. We would never get rid of you, buddy. Ever!” He uses his hand to turn my head towards his. His crystal blue eyes are staring directly into mine and now I can’t stop the tears from falling even though I am trying. It’s seems Spencer can’t either.  

“Oh, Dallon, It’s alright. I've never been able to just tell someone flat out what I mean; I try to mollify my words but, they don’t come out right. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He sounds defeated.  “I am so sorry!”  He wipes his eyes and as he sets his hand down onto the arm of the couch, his hand hits the stain left from earlier.  I go to tell him to wash his hands but, just then, we hear the key in the lock, and seconds later, Brendon is waltzing through the door with two white plastic bags. He turns to set them on the breakfast bar, “Hey, guys. So I got forgot chopsticks but, I think we have-“he turns around and stops mid-sentence. A look of worry washes over him and he practically jumps over the couch and lands next to Spencer and me.

 

_He looks like he is about to kill Spencer. How did I fuck this up so badly?_


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon is overly protective of Dallon but, it might be what is needed in order to save them.

_Brendon is seething, he’s trying really hard to focus but, I see the flames and furry in his eyes._

 

Trying his best to be supportive he turns to me, “What’s the matter, babe? What happened? Are you okay?” He is pulling me closer to him and his heartbeat is almost audible in the awkward silence of our living room.  His hand is softly grazing the side of cheek and simultaneously wiping tears away.

 

He smiles at me then and then turns to Spencer and through gritted teeth he says “What the fuck dude! I was only gone for 35 fucking minutes! What the fuck happened?!”  If looks could kill, Spencer would have dropped dead on the hardwood floor.

 

“Uh, I uh… uh…” is all he can vocalize before Brendon cuts him off.

 

“What, Spencer, what the fuck?!”

 

Spencer takes a hand and places it on Brendon’s shoulder, “Brendon, stop! Seriously, we were just talking. Honest. Stop being a dick for a minute and just listen to me? ” 

 

Brendon twists his body around toward Spencer so fast I honestly thought he was going to swing.

 

_Shit, Spencer really is going to get killed so, I step in. I can’t stand seeing them upset._

 

With a hand on each of his shoulders, I swing Brendon’s body back to me to help him focus on what I am saying. It’s not easy but, I managed somehow to regain his focus.

 

“B, its fine, I just… I got a little emotional is all. I thought you two wanted me out of the band.” I say meekly. “I thought that was why the guys were coming over and why Spencer came early. Oh fuck, it’s my fault, totally my fault. Sorry. “

 

He lifts my head and kisses me softly on the lips, feather light and so sensitive. He then kisses my forehead and says “Dallon, there is no way in HELL we would ever replace you! Yeah, we _are_ changing a few of our protocols but, that is for everyone’s health and safety, not just yours. Okay?”

 

He wipes another tear from my face and slowly stands up. He lets out an exaggerated sigh, drops his head down as if he has been defeated, and walks over to Spencer who at some point, retreated into our kitchen.

 

“Hey, Spence, it’s alright, it’s just, uh… new meds and he needs to be able to open up more and shit, we’re working on all of it.” He waves his hand dismissively.

 

“He’s okay; I swear I am not mad. I promise. You don’t have to hide in the kitchen.” He snickers, “You thought I was gonna kick your ass for making him cry, didn’t you!?”

 

“Yeah, dude, I kind of did. I’m sorry, I just wanted to see how he felt and all and- “he stops just short of the couch, takes a step back, looks at the two of us and then slowly says “Wait! Did you call him babe?”

 

“Yeah, see the thing is; we’re together. Like, forever dude. “Brendon beams and pulls me into a tight hug.

 

Spencer’s face goes from confused to slightly irritated rather quickly.

 

“We were planning on telling you two?” he says assuredly.

 

“I am not stupid, I figured you two out a _long_ fucking time ago, idiots! I just didn’t know it was official.” Spencer is right, he isn’t stupid but, he sure as shit looks pissed that we didn’t tell him.

 

“Sorry! Just a lot going on lately and we kind of wanted to wait to tell you and Kenny both.”  Brendon says this in all sincerity and then looks at me, “We sort of fell in love and even though things haven’t been the best, we are great together.”  He smiles his famous Brendon smile and kisses me.

 

“That is pretty awesome, you guys! Congrats!” he says and steps forward to hug the both of us. “I am really happy for you both! I am sure Kenny will be too.”  He releases his grip on us, steps back and in a little less enthusiastic voice says “Uh, are you guys going public with this or is this strictly a need-to-know-basis?”

 

 

Brendon and I both look at each other; he takes both my hands in his and says “That is up to Dallon, honestly. We haven’t discussed it but, I want whatever he wants so, whatever is less stressful for him right now.”

 

I smile at him and tilt my head into his to kiss him, moaning slightly into his mouth which elicits a disapproving groan from Spencer.  We break from our embrace and laugh.

 

“Dudes, I love you both but, chill out with that shit and answer my question?” Spencer whines.

 

“Yes, we will go public but, not until after the new record is done. We don’t need any more distractions. I am still trying to make up for the last one.” I laugh but, neither of them does. In fact, they both look a little distraught as I joke about my past. “Hey, I am kidding, okay? Distasteful, yes, but, get over it. I have to be able to talk about this so I can move on.” I am almost whispering by the end of my sentence but, I made my point.   

 

Spencer just nods and Brendon squeezes my hand as acknowledgment. Time stands still for a few moments as we process all that has happened and in true Brendon form he breaks the silence in his own unique way “Okay, fuckers, I didn’t just spend $38.00 on Chinese food for it to sit on the counter, can we eat now?” 

 

Spencer sighs and goes to grab plates and glasses and as I am walking towards the fridge, Brendon catches the belt loop of my jeans with his index finger essentially halting me. “Hey!” he whispers into my neck as he pulls me closer to him, “I love you more than life itself, please don’t joke about what happened? Please? I don’t even want to think about that day.” I nod into him and he cups his hand under my chin so his gaze can meet mine. “I mean it Dall, I love you. Okay?”

 

“I know B; I love you too! I promise I won’t joke about it, okay? I’m sorry. It’s just a nervous, self-deprecating habit?” I shrug and kiss him, pulling him by the wrist into the kitchen. Spencer is already loading his plate with noodles. He gives me a sideways stare and I just shrug and grab a plate.

 

_Shit! I almost forgot._

 

“Uh, Spence?” I am trying really hard to hide this smirk on my face. I can’t though.

 

“Yeah, what’s up?” he says as he cocks one eyebrow

 

“You should probably go wash your hands?” I laugh at him.

 

“Okay, but, why?” he looks interested but I don’t think the realization has hit him yet.

 

“Let’s just say that wasn’t frosting you put your hand into on the couch just a bit ago.”  I say, a bit sheepishly.

 

“Wha- oh, fuck you, you guys!” he yells as he is running to the bathroom.

 

“We already did!” Brendon yells after him.

 

I am laughing so hard that tears are rolling down my face. Brendon looks at me and starts laughing just as hysterically while he grabs a paper towel to clean up the mess we made earlier.

 

Spencer is in the bathroom scrubbing his hand with the fingernail brush muttering “Jesus Christ, I can’t sit anywhere in this goddamn house can I? I swear to god-”

 

He comes back out of the bathroom, his pinkish hands being wiped on his jeans. He shakes his head in a disapproving manor, “Fuck you, guys!” I am eating on the patio! Wait, is the fucking patio covered in your DNA too?!”

 

“Seriously. Spencer? How many tour busses have you been on in the past 10 years? Those things are a fucking hotbed of cum stains! I never heard you complaining about those! I think you can handle it.” Brendon muses.

 

_Spencer shakes his head and pulls out his cell phone desperately dialing someone’s phone number, his therapist maybe?_

 

Brendon and I laugh as he walks to the sliding door.  We can hear him on the phone as he closes the door. “Dude, get the fuck over here soon! Please? These two are disgusting! Well, no, not anything I haven’t seen before… Alright, alright… Yeah see you soon.”

 

We decide to join Spencer on the patio, effectively killing any peace and quiet he may have been trying to achieve. He sighs and then digs into his food.

 

“Was that Kenny?” I ask as Brendon pulls the patio chairs back over to the table.

 

“Yeah, he said he would be here in 20 minutes or so and to save him some food. I can’t promise that though.” He laughs taking a bite of his noodles.

 

 

I give Spencer a small grin, nodding, and look over at Brendon who is demolishing his plate of rice and veggies; I shake my head at him. He has blinders on when he eats, it’s like nothing else exists when there is food in front of him. It’s mesmerizing and disgusting all at the same time.

 

_I have loving friends, a gorgeous, loving boyfriend, and an amazing career. I am ready for this, right?_


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon and Dallon are elated that the boys are so accepting of their relationship. Dallon starts to second guess himself...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter! The next chapter is a game changer! Stay with me on this! :)

Kenny shows while we are just finishing dinner. He fixes himself a plate and quietly sits next to Spencer. He politely laughs at Brendon's stupid story about him and Pete; "a drunken night of things no one wants to hear about" as Spencer describes it. I can't place it exactly but, something seems a bit off about Kenny tonight. I don’t quite know what though. I sit there thinking for a minute and when I tune back into reality, Brendon is wiping tears from his eyes from laughing so much.

 

As I stand up to clear the plates and go put the leftovers in the fridge, Kenny reaches for a glass across the table and says "You want some help with that, Dallon?"

 

"Uh, sure, thanks." I say and lead the way through the patio doors to the kitchen. He places the glass in the sink and starts to walk back out of the kitchen taking two steps then stopping to turn back as if he is conflicted on his next move.

 

"Hey, man, what's up? You okay?" I ask him. He looks up at me and steps back to lean against the counter. He doesn't say anything for a good 30 seconds so I ask again. "You okay?" I walk closer to him and nudge him in the elbow. He looks at me and says "I am glad you are okay, Dallon." with a slight crooked smile. I lean in and give him a hug. He hugs back tightly and then steps back against the counter again.

“Thanks, man. I really appreciate all the support from you and Spencer. I mean, I know it hasn't been easy on you two either.”

“I am really sorry, Kenny.” I say shyly.

“Hey, it’s alright, Dallon. I mean, I get it. I really, really do.” His voice trails off for a second and I catch a hint of sadness in his voice.

I really don’t want to pry but, I ask anyways, “Have you ever felt that way, Kenny? Um, I mean… Have you ever felt like you didn't want to be here anymore?” It’s a hard question to ask but, I have a feeling that I know what he is going to say.

He turns to me and his voice is barely a whisper at this point. “About 5 years ago, I got to a really low point in my life. Some things just piled up and kept piling until I felt like I couldn't get out from underneath it anymore. I isolated myself and I had it planned but, I didn’t go through with any of it. My brother for some reason had come over that day and hung out, just out of the blue. I ended up getting really drunk and I told him what was going on. He helped me get a counselor and I am at a point in my life where I feel happy again. It’s not perfect; we all have those days but, yeah. I understand where you are coming from man, that’s why I was so angry with you. Because, I know how it feels on both sides of that blade. I fucking get that. But, you have to try, okay?”

He grabs my arm and looks at me with empathetic eyes and says, “Just, just try to make sure we know when things need to slow down or if you need some time. Okay? It’s not a problem if we have a quiet night once in a while. Shit, if Brendon was quiet for a night, I think I would faint!” He starts to laugh and I do too because, yeah, Brendon is very loud and seems to never shut up; the asshole even talks in his sleep so, yeah, I get it.

 

He wipes his eye with the back of his hand and lets out a deep breath, slowly.

 

“Okay” I say, smiling at him. “I promise. You wanna go see what the guys are up to? I’m sure one of them would love to fill you in on some things.”

 

“Oh shit. Does it have something to do with Spencer’s frantic phone call to me earlier?” he laughs, loudly.

 

“Yeah. I think it might?” I mumble as I walk toward the patio doors. He follows behind and stepping out I can hear Brendon say “…well, yeah, why else would Pete want to see Gabe so much?”

 

“You’re full of it!” Spencer spits back at him and Brendon just laughs.

 

I shake my head at him for like the third time this evening and saunter over to him. I place my hand on his shoulder and he places his hand over mine while looking up at me. I kiss the top of his head and sit down on his lap.

 

“Yeah, I am not stupid, you two. I knew about you the whole time,” Kenny says, laughing.

 

“Dude! That’s the same thing I said!” Spencer holds his hand up to Kenny and they high five very dramatically.

 

“Alright, ha ha.” Brendon says “So seriously, you guys are okay with us being together?”

 

Spencer and Kenny both look at each other then again at us. Spencer clears his throat and says “We love you both like brothers and all we want is for you both to be happy so yes, we are both just fine with you two being together. Just make sure that we don’t walk in on your little happy sexy times…Okay? Because, no one needs to see that!” he looks pointedly at Brendon and then I start laughing.

 

“Deal- and thanks you two, it means a lot to have so much support for everything in our lives lately. I really don’t know what we would do without you guys.”

 

“Hey, we stick together, right?” Spencer says “We always will be here for you just like you are for us.” He stops and looks away and sniffs just a little bit.

 

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Brendon says “Can we fucking stop this love fest and watch a movie or something because I think my brain is going to explode from all this gooey love around here.”

 

I smack him on the arm and give him a dirty look. Spencer literally does the same and then stands to walk inside.

 

“Ya know, just for that, I get to pick the movie!” Spencer yells as he practically runs inside.

 

“Oh, shit!” Kenny says.  “You know he is going to pick “The Never ending story” again, right?”

 

“Fuck you guys!  Now, we’re watching “Labyrinth!” Spencer yells back as he starts to dig through the DVD’s in the cabinet.

 

 

“Dammit” Brendon says softly and I sigh into Brendon’s neck and kiss him just below his jawline. I stand up, lazily pull him up and lead him to the door. He stops mid step and I almost fall backwards. When I turn to see what the holdup is, he is looking me dead in the eyes. He takes his hand and places it on the back of my neck, slowly inching our faces closer together, stopping short of us actually touching.

 

“Thank you.” he whispers.

 

“For what?”  I ask incredulously.

 

“For staying. I can’t- I couldn't live my life without you, Dallon. Knowing that Kenny and Spence are just as supportive of all of this, of us? It makes me feel like I wasn't meant to be with anyone else on earth. It was always supposed to be you, Dallon.” His words are almost inaudible as he speaks directly into my ear. His words, his emotion for our relationship gives me goose bumps.

 

“Brendon, I don’t want to leave you, ever.  I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else. You are literally everything I need in this world. Honest. I love you with every ounce of my soul. I hope that you know this, I wish there were more hours in the day to tell you how much I love you.” My words make sense but, it’s not exactly everything I want to say to him. Those words are written in the back of my head, for vows that will be spoken in front of family and friends someday.

 

He nods his head against my neck and breathes a small sigh. I take a slow deep breath and then kiss him lightly on his cheek and lead him inside.

 

Spencer is curled up on the couch and Kenny has taken residence in our lazy boy. I look at Brendon and then back at the boys and I smile. I sit next to Spencer and Brendon climbs in between us to lay half on me and on Spencer, he has no sense of personal space to be honest. We’re all used to it though. Spencer just adjusts his legs to the side of Brendon and sighs. I laugh at him and he pulls me so I am laying on his chest with my legs on the arm of the couch.  

We are about 30 minutes into the movie and my mind starts to drift. Somewhere in the back of my mind I start to wonder how the studio is going to be now that we are back to trying to record.  

 

_Are we still facing writers block? Will I remember how to even play? What if I fuck everything up again? What if we never make another album? What if everyone forgot about us because I needed so much time off?  Fuck!_

 

I get a sudden twinge of anxiety and I try to let it pass but, I feel so wound up that I need to physically remove myself from the room. I remove Brendon’s hand from my chest and try to get up as slowly as I can so it doesn't show that I am panicking inside. I am fighting against myself right now to get to the bathroom before I vomit all over the floor. Brendon looks at me with an inquisitive eye. “Gotta Pee!” I lie to him and I walk as fast as I can without causing a scene to the upstairs bathroom.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon starts to be overwhelmed by all of the events that have taken place recently. Its a lot to take in. But, It's the unexpected help from Kenny that makes him realize that he may have figured out a new way to control his anxiety...

I run up the stairs two at a time and stumble through the bathroom doorway. Find the light and switch it on. I close the door, lock it and sit shaking, on the edge of the bathtub. My lungs are trying really hard to inflate but, I feel like they are on fire. My mind is racing and I can’t even deal with this right now.

“You've gotta get a handle on this, Dallon. Focus, fucking focus!” I tell myself.

My body is still shaking and I start to feel numb. I haven’t had a panic attack like this in so long; it feels like the first one ever, you never get used to feeling like this. I slide off the side of the tub where I am precariously perched, and onto the floor. I grab the towel on the rack and bring it to my face as I begin to sob. I feel so out of control right now and the only thing my body wants to do is shake and cry.

_What do I do? What did I used to do? What the fuck is going on with me? Why the fuck is this happening? No, I can’t fucking cut, I told him I wouldn't. I told myself I wouldn't. Fuck!_

I try to breathe how my therapist taught me but, it’s not helping. What would help is a handful of sleeping pills or Klonopin or something? I need something to make me not want to cut myself right now.

_How long have I even been up here? I dig my fingernails into my thigh, something to distract me. Fuck, Brendon is going to come looking for me soon. I know it._

I hold my breath and count to seven. I let it go. I try it again. I try again 3 more times and I hear a faint knock on the door.  I knew it…

“Hey Dallon, you’re gonna miss the best part, you okay? “ I hear a voice but, it’s not Brendon, it’s Kenny.  “Hey, Dall?” and he knocks again. Not wanting to cause a fucking scene, I suppose I better open the door, he can witness my fucking freak out if he wants to I guess.

I crawl over to the door and turn the knob to unlock it and pull it open just a bit as hand snakes around to open it wider. He looks at me, eyes about as big as saucers and then steps two feet in and closes the door behind him.

“Dall, what do you need?” he says to me in the most earnest and quiet voice.

I just shake my head at him and hold the towel back up to my face. I feel him slide next to me and then fold his arm around my shoulders and pull me into a tight hug.

It’s not Brendon but, he’s like family and as much as I hate sharing this with anyone, I’d rather have him than no one that’s for sure.

“Shhh, You’re gonna be fine, Dall. You need to slow your breathing down or you’re going to pass out.” I hear him whisper. He takes his hand and presses his fingers into my leg, “When I press down, take a deep breath, Okay? When I let up, let it out. Got it?” he asks. I nod slightly and at this point I’ll try anything.

 

I feel his fingers dig into my leg and I take a deep breath and hold it. He then releases his grip and I exhale. “Okay? Good. You’re doing great, Dall… now, again. “He says repeating the same sequence with his fingers (but with more pressure) and then releasing his grip on my leg. “Harder, press harder?” I say to him and he obliges.  At this point, I've lost count of how many times he’s done this but, I am starting to feel a little calmer. 

I take a deep breath and he pulls the towel away from my face and looks as me. “You’re going to be fine, Dallon. It happens to all of us. Today was a big day for you and Brendon and even though it may not have felt like it, your brain knows it was. It just gets overwhelming. But, I promise you are going to be fine.” He takes his arm away from around my shoulders and takes my hands in his, squeezing slightly. As he begins to stand he pulls me with him, his fingers are tight on my wrist and I can feel my pulse start to slow.  “Brendon?” I say, quietly and almost in a voice I don’t even recognize. He smiles at me and exhales like he is relieved I am back in reality.

“They both fell asleep on the couch. I started to doze off and realized you weren't back yet, I wanted to make sure you weren't sick or anything. When I came up the stairs I could hear you crying. I don’t have to tell Brendon if you don’t want me to. I just want to make sure you are alright.”

 

“I’ll be okay.” I manage to say through crying hiccups. “But, I, uh… Can you get Brendon?  Please? “

“Yeah of course, dude.“ He says, “I’ll tell him you are upstairs and then I’ll wake up Spencer and take him home. That way we don’t make a huge deal out of it, yeah?”

“Thanks, man. Thank you. I’m sorry, I just, and it’s been a long time since I've felt like this. It was scary, like the first time it ever happened. I am glad you came to check on me. Thank you.” I tell him and pull him into a hug.

 

“We all have our moments, Dall. I am glad you trust me enough to help you, I appreciate that. Probably more than you realize, man. Get your face washed and go to bed, I’ll get Bren for you and we’ll see you two tomorrow afternoon?” he says hopefully.

“Yes.” I say nodding and he turns to head down the stairs. A few minutes later I can hear a bit of muffled conversation and then the front door open then close. The next things I hear are footsteps and a soft knock on the bathroom door.

I still have tears in my eyes but, I open the door anyways. His face is a mixed emotion of calm and dread. It’s hard to explain but, it looks cute on him, I am kind of biased though.

 

He stares for a few seconds then takes two steps forward, launching himself against my chest and hugs me tight. He very faintly whispers in my ear “I am so sorry I was asleep. Are you okay?”

I nod my head and kiss him on the neck. “Kenny uh, he helped me through it. He didn't want to make it a big deal I guess. I don’t know. It just came on all of a sudden but, I feel a lot better.” I tell him.

“I’m glad you’re okay, baby. I am glad Kenny was there for you. You mean a lot to everyone. You know that, right? We all love you and just want to be there for you, just like you would be for us. I am glad he was there. Um… you didn't uh…um…” he falters his words but his faint line of a worried smile says it all.

 

I interrupt him, “Did I hurt myself? No, Bren, I didn't. I didn't.”

 

_Those words feel weird to say out loud after such a long time._

_I didn't though and that was the truth; even though I really wanted to._

 I am glad Kenny came when he did.  Had he not intervened, I may have.

  _I think back to Kenny using his fingers to apply pressure and then releasing, his fingers digging into my flesh and how I wanted it to hurt more.  It helped to be distracted but, it also took the edge away from wanting to hurt myself. It’s never about seeing blood or because I like the way it feels, it’s about feeling-something, anything, that’s why I cut the first time. Because I lose myself in everything and nothing feels real. I lose my sense of where I begin and the world starts and its suffocating. I began to use the cutting as a way to bring myself back to reality, to feel again, and it was purely on a whim but, it helped at the time but, maybe Brendon can help me? Maybe Kenny was on to something._

 

_My brain is going on overload right now… too many thoughts too fast and it’s getting hard to concentrate. Fuck!_

 

I shake my head like I am trying to sweep the cobwebs out and he just looks at me with those eyes, his fucking eyes! They get impossibly big when he is worried or upset, too dark and deep. But, it’s hard to see past them sometimes, like right now. Right now, they look too dark, too deep, and too sad. It’s hard to look away from him when they are like that though. It has always intrigued me.

 

“Hey, earth to Dall?”  Brendon’s fingers are snapping in front of my eyes, “Oh shit! Sorry, Bren. “ I apologize quickly and start pulling him into the bedroom.

 

“What’s the rush, Dall?” he says with a worried laugh. “I just need you to do something.” I confess as we stand in front of our bed.

 

“Okay? I’d do anything for you, you know that. What’s up?” and he looks at me with those dark eyes again.  

 

“I need to...Um…I need you to…” I stammer.

 

“What, Dall. What do you-“he says slowly but, I am impatient right now so fuck it, I just need to say this before I lose my nerve.

 “I need you to hurt me, Brendon.”

 

“Wait, you-You want me to do what?”

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Brendon understand what Dallon needs him to do to help him through his anxiety?

“I need you to hurt me, Brendon.” I tell him.  His eyes are wide and his face scrunched into a confused scowl. “Uh, maybe I should explain?”

“That might be a good place to start, yes.” He says with borderline sarcasm.  He pulls his fingers through his hair and sits down silently on the end of our bed. I sit down next to him and pull his hands into mine. If we’re going to do this, and I think I really need for him to, he needs to know I am sincere and not completely out of my damn mind.

“When I am anxious; having these goddamn panic attacks, I used to get out of my head, uh… try to like force myself to be in some other state of mind, by- by cutting. I know it sounds kind of backwards but, follow me on this, okay?” I look at him and he nods understandingly.

_Whether it is in disbelief or curiosity, I don’t even care right now. At least he isn't calling my therapist._

“When I couldn't do that tonight, it was killing me. I made a promise not to and there is no way I would ever let you down. Kenny came in and started trying to get me to breathe by following his physical cue.  I've seen it online before in some coping skill forum or something; you have someone cue you to breathe in a certain pattern by taping or squeezing an arm or leg.”

_I look at him and he is still staring at me. I don’t know if this is working or not._

“So, okay, that makes sense. Someone is basically setting a pattern for you to breathe to so it takes the stress of that off of the person who is anxious?” he says inquisitively.

“Yes. Yes, pretty much. It really helped, to be honest, it was helping me to chill out except, I uh… I need it to be a little more than that, I think. I need it to get me out of my head a little more than just the breathing. I have to jump start myself back into my head and I need to figure something out as an alternative. The stupid meditation and the yoga and all that new age bullshit; just doesn't help, Bren. I need to hurt and if I do it myself, I might go too far.” I turn my head away from him, “Look, I know it’s a lot to ask for, I just-“he interrupts me, “No, Dall, I get it. Yes, I can do that. I’ll do that for you. We just need to set up some ground rules, okay?” he says earnestly.

“Really?” my surprise is genuine; I know how he feels about my self-harm and how I used to cope in the past.

 “Yes. I will. But, like, I am not willing to wound you or willing to scar you permanently or anything like that. I also will not do it unless you ask me or we have some sort of word or signal. I am not going to be the one that makes that decision. Got it?” he says sternly.

“Of course, of course thank you, B. I just, I don’t know if this will work but, I think it might help. I don’t want to be this drugged out person anymore. I want to try this. I read that the endorphins associated with pain can work better than drugs in general. “

“I've seen things about that too. We can try it but, if in any way it fails, we’re done. Okay? I don’t want this to get out of control. Can you promise me that?” he takes my hand and brings it too his chest, right above his heart. “Promise, Dall.”

 

“Bren, I promise you that if it doesn't work, you’ll know. Shit, you’ll probably know before me.” I say with a laugh.

“Well, yea I suppose I would. Okay, alright but, only because I love you.”

“I love you too, Brendon, so much.” I tell him as I kiss his soft lips. I trust this man with my life, I trust him to stop if anything goes too far. He knows me better than I know myself at this point so, this can’t be so bad, right?

“I think we need to go over ground rules now, Dall. Because I know that with all the studio shit coming up that you’ll want to do this sooner rather than later and I do not want to be trying to figure out this shit on the fly. So, can we just do this now?” He says this in a tone that is mostly worry and edging on frantic but, I get it. 

“OK. Um, can we, can I show you what I mean and we can talk about it while we’re doing it? It might be easier.” I confess.

“Sure. Yea, because I have no idea what I am doing.” He says a little unsure.

I grab his hand and pull his fingers up to the soft spot under my left arm. “Pinch.” I tell him, “Pinch hard.”  He hesitates then squeezes the skin under my arm. Not enough to hurt but, I can feel it.

“Just like that Bren but, you have to do it harder, please?” I say, looking him in the eyes.  “Can take it, I promise.” So he does, he pinches hard into my skin and it hurts like hell but, it’s also that rush of endorphins that I need to feel alive again.

“Fuck, Bren. Yes, just like that. Again, please?”

“I don’t know, Dall. I-“

“Bren, fuck, please?” I plead with him and move his hand down to the soft spot above my hip. “Squeeze, here Brendon.  Do it now.”

He obliges and when he squeezes, it feels like a knife in my side. I open my eyes and realize he’s using his nails, it’s more than I expected but, the fact that I am almost floating on adrenaline and endorphins alone, is enough to convince me that this is going to work. He releases his grip I fall back onto the bed, eyes shut.

“Fuck, Dall are you okay?” I hear him say almost panicking as he shakes me by my shoulders.  I open my eyes as much as I can and look at him, “That is perfect, Bren.”

He laughs as he lets out a deep breath and says “You look high, Dallon. How do you feel?”  I pull him down and kiss him, hard.  

“That good? Jeez!” he giggles.

“Honestly? I feel like I am my old self again right now. I swear, I think this is going to work. Kenny is a fucking genius.”  I tell him.

“Whoa, let’s not go that far!” he laughs and then kisses me on the forehead. “I would only do this for you, you know that right?” his words are soft as if he is unsure. “I just don’t want this to get out of hand, okay? I won’t lie to you, this scares me a little, babe. What if eventually the pinching isn't enough? What if you want me to hurt you in a way that I just can’t? I’m just not sure about all this but, we’ll try it, Okay?”

 

“B, it’s not going to. It’s going to be alright. I think it’s a temporary thing but, I need to have this right now. It’s not going to harm anything and no one will notice. I just need to find another outlet and right now, it’s this. If you ever get uncomfortable, we’ll stop and I will try something else or go back to the meds or whatever. Is that a deal?” My eyes meet his as I ask him and he nods.

 

_I want him to be comfortable with this. It’s not going to be easy but, I need him to be on board just for a little bit I really need him to want to help me with this._

“OK, Dall. We’ll just take it step by step. Let’s get some sleep. We've got a lot of things to do tomorrow. Are you sure you are okay?”

 

“Stop worrying, B! Everything will be fine. I promise. Yes, let’s get some sleep but first, come here so I can kiss you.” I let out a small sigh and he kisses me with the softest lips ever. He is crazy for staying with me for so long but, I am so glad he is here.

“Mmmmhmmm, my favorite way to fall asleep, with you in my arms.” He smiles as we pull the covers over us and he lies behind me with his arm draped over my hip and waist.

 

_Tomorrow won’t be so bad, right?_


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon wakes up before the alarm and wants to spend some quality time with Brendon before they start the rest of their day.

The alarm is set to go off in 45 minutes but my body just won’t let me sleep any longer. I lay next to Brendon listening to the soft sounds of his breathing while my brain goes into overdrive. He is so patient with me and I can’t even understand it. He acts so damn strong for the both of us; it’s more than anyone has ever done for me in my life. He loves me regardless of scars, racing thoughts, or panic attacks. He believes in me so much and I feel lucky to even have him love me that it makes my chest ache. I take a deep breath and turn towards the window as the sun starts to peak out from the horizon and inspiration hits me.

“Brendon wake up, baby.” I whisper in his ear as I gently shake his shoulders a few times, “Baby wake up.”

He stirs silently and turns over in the bed staring at me with sleepy vacant eyes. I smile at him and he starts to focus on me a little more.

“Bren, let’s go! Come with me? Come on, we need to do this today, okay?” I plead with him as I stand up and walk around to his side of the bed helping him up from under the comforter. Pulling him behind me, he staggers for a few seconds and then follows me in earnest. As we descend the stairs and arrive at the patio doors, he finally says “Everything okay, Dall?”

“Perfect, actually. I want to watch the sun rise with you.” I respond with a smile as he follows me out to the back patio. The air is still cool and it’s so quiet that I feel like he can hear my thoughts. He sits down on the step and I sit in front of him on the next step down leaning against his chest. He wraps his arms around me and I rest my head on his arm his head resting on my shoulder.

“Dall, what are you thinking?”

“I didn’t want the sun to rise today before I could tell you how much I love you, Brendon. I know I say this all the time but, you really are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I have been to hell and back and you walk right along with me as if there is no other place you’d rather be. The things I ask of you are beyond what anyone should have to deal with. I need you to know that I can’t live without you. Thank you for believing in me and knowing that there is a better person in here than what shows on the outside.” I turn my body slightly so that I can see his beautiful face and there is a tear running down his cheek.

“Oh god Bren, don’t cry. Please?” wiping a tear away with my thumb, “Baby! No, I’m sorry. No crying.” I say as my voice cracks and I let out a small laugh. 

He places a hand on my cheek and sighs, “Dallon, you are incredible- this is amazing. No one has ever wanted to just watch the sunrise with me. I don’t understand half of the things that run through that brain of yours, but I will stay here with you forever just to try. You make me a better person, you really do. I felt so lost in my life before you- I love you.” He professes and now I am the one tearing up.

“I saw the sun coming through our bedroom window and it made me think that today is the first day of what could be another big time in our lives; studio, album, and then another tour. I just wanted to make sure I remembered this day from its entirety.  I get to do what I love with someone I love and my best friends. It made more sense in my head but, I needed this. I need music back in my life.”

“No, I get it. I get it. And me too Dallon, only I didn’t really know it until now. Thank you.” He kisses my forehead and we sit and watch the sun rise a bit higher into the sky for a little bit longer.

“So, we’re doing this right? We’re going to make a hit fucking record. I can feel it!" I grin at him and he smiles back and nods knowingly.

“It’s going to be amazing, Dallon.”

 

We slowly get up and go inside. Brendon starts the coffee maker as I get two bowls from the cabinet for cereal. We do this domesticated routine every day it seems but today feels different. There is a hint of sexual electricity in the air and as we pass in the middle of the kitchen near the island, we brush against each other. I stare at him for a brief moment and he stops, grabs my hips from behind, and pulls me close to him; my back resting on his chest, my heart beating faster every second. His tongue is barely grazing my earlobe and he starts to pull my pajama pants down just to expose the skin on my hips.

“I would love nothing more than to take you right here, right now, Dall.” He breathes effortlessly into my ear.

“I dare you, Mr. Urie.”

“Is that so, Mr. Weekes?”

“Yes. In fact, I triple dog dare you.”

“Such a fucking tease, Mr. Weekes! Get upstairs now!” he commands and we both practically run up the stairs to our bedroom. We barely make it in the door before he is bending me over the side of the bed. He fumbles for the drawer as he grabbing for the lube from the nightstand. I feel slicked fingers probing me from behind and moving franticly to open me up. It let out a soft moan and he asks “Do you need more or-“

“No god, Bren just… please?” and within seconds he is filling me with the slow burn and stretch of his cock that just feels comfortingly familiar. He lingers in the same position for a minute or so before moving slowly in and almost all the way out; a gentle steady pace that drives me crazy with need and want.

“Bren, harder, please, fuck!”

“Fuck, ok, ok, Dall. This is going to be quick.”

His rhythm picks up pace and the pressure of his cock hitting my prostate has me almost on edge before he has even really started. The sound of his hips meeting my flesh, his rapid, ragged breathing, his fingers digging into the soft spot right above my hips; it’s too much and not enough all at the same time.  

“Bren, oh god, oh…” and before I can even warn him, I am coming underneath him and against our mattress. He digs his fingers into my flesh a bit harder and within seconds he is coming as well; shaking as his chest drapes over me and he kisses my neck as he pulls out.

“Christ, Dall. You’d think we hadn’t fucked in years.  That was, wow.” He laughs and goes to find a washcloth to clean up our bedspread as I try to find my balance on legs made of jelly.

“Yea, wow.” Is all I can manage to say at this point until I can get my brain and my breathing back to normal. Finally, after a few minutes I can actually breathe and make coherent sentences so I smile telling him, “I told you this was going to be a good day.”

“Mmm yea, sure is babe. Let’s go eat. I need some coffee.”

He looks content. His eyes are slightly glazed over and I have a moment of self-satisfaction knowing that I did that for him; that I can get him to that level of bliss. It’s a nice thought to keep on my mind for the rest of the day.

We start downstairs and are just sitting down when my cell chimes; it’s a text from Spencer

_Can’t wait to start making music! See you guys in a little while. Ask Brendon to bring his acoustic? Thanks! :)_

I smile and tap out a reply.

_We’re psyched! See you soon, I’ll tell him._

“It was Spence, he’s excited to start in the studio, and he wants you to bring your acoustic.”

“I already have it by the door in the music room, I figured he would want to pluck things out first before we plug in.” he laughs, “Spence is in rare form today if he is already up and ready to go. Let’s get finished and get up there before all his energy is wasted.”

Brendon looks at me and I nod, he leans across the table and kisses me soft on the cheek before he clears our dishes and we head upstairs to get ready. Today is going to be a good day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon is starting to get nervous about recording again but, Brendon is always there to help. Spencer and Brendon are up to something and Dallon seems to think the worst as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pay special attention to what Spencer is doing and saying in this chapter. We'll visit it again really soon!

It’s close to 8:30am before we are actually in the car on our way to the studio. Spencer has already called around 7 fucking times and sent a massive amount of text messages asking of our whereabouts. When he texts, Brendon just smiles and shakes his head. He likes to keep Spencer waiting, it's fun for him to see Spencer all wound up and pissy. Truth be told, Spencer is like a kid at Christmas in the studio and Brendon is really no better. The two of them, around all those instruments and recording equipment, is usually why nothing productive happens for about 2 hours out of our 8-10 hour sessions. It’s cute how excited they get until they realize what the time is and start trying to rush things. That’s where we left off about 8 months ago. We have 5 songs that have lyrics, 3 songs that have actual melody/harmony, and 2 songs that are tracked only for drums and guitar. It’s almost like starting over and I start to think about all the events leading up to it.

_Had I not fucked up prior to this and had Brendon not decided to take a break to help me, maybe we would have an album recorded by now._

I absent mindedly snap the rubber band on my wrist a few times while I stare out the window. The sharp sting is just distracting enough and though I can see him glance in my direction, he stays mostly quiet and hums along to the radio with a goofy grin on his face.

The drive to the studio is in is only about 20 minutes from our house and surprisingly, even with traffic, we arrive at around 9am.

As we are parking Brendon turns to glare at me. “Alright, I give. Why do you look like you are going to throw up, Dallon?”

“I didn’t realize I did?”  

“So you weren’t snapping that rubber band on your wrist a few minutes ago?” He arches his eyebrow at me playfully.

_Shit._

I fake a small smile even if it means nothing to either of us.

“Hey, everything is going to be fine. I promise. Trust me; I am really fucking nervous too. But, it’s just Spence and Kenny. No producers or other musicians today, alright? C’mere.” He says softly and pulls me close to him. “I love you, Dallon. I am so fucking proud of you and I want you to know that nothing would ever change that for me, Okay?” He then kisses me; slow and sweet. Taking my lower lip into his teeth, as he pulls away he gives a small growl and I laugh.

“I know. I know you are proud and I am proud of _all of us_ too but, especially you. I know we will be fine. Just residual anxiety I guess? But, goddamnit can you do me a favor and stop with the lip biting thing? Because if I have to walk in there half hard I will make you explain to _our bandmates_ why I have to go take care of myself in the bathroom.” I say laughing.

“That sounds like a damn challenge to me, Mr. Weekes but, fine. Have it your way!” He turns and opens his door as I open mine. The summer air is starting to get warmer as the morning moves on and the sunshine is beaming down around us making everything outside seem just that much nicer and brighter.

_Like the world is trying to prove its worth; just like I feel like I need to._

I feel his hand at the small of my back guiding me through the doorway and down the subsequent maze of hallways until we reach a dark wooden door ornamented with a maroon sign that reads “Studio 5”. My heart feels as if it has completely stopped for a second and I take a deep shaky breath. He looks at me sideways and I smile at him, “No, its fine, I’m good, let’s go make some music!”

“Uh huh, sure. Alright then, let’s go.” He says with a small grin.

_He knows me better than I know myself so obviously he sees through my tiny charade but, he won’t intervene until I tell him that was the deal._

We walk through a small corridor and just beyond the water cooler sits Spence and Kenny. Spence is drumming on his leg with his hand while Kenny shows him something on his phone and laughs hysterically.

“Well, will you look at those lazy motherfuckers!” Brendon says. Spencer gives him a look that could probably kill if given a fighting chance.

“At least we are on time, asshole!” Spencer shoots back and then gives Brendon a hug and a high-five. Kenny stands and gives me a high-five as well and we both give each other a knowing look that this is going to be an interesting day.

“Where are we starting?” Spencer asks. “Are we tracking today or writing? I have a few ideas if we are writing.”

Brendon, Kenny, and I all look at Spencer and shrug our shoulders, “Let’s see what you have, Spence.” Brendon says as he sits in one of the chairs behind the controls.

“This is going to sound really weird but, a few months back I had this same dream almost every night for 3 straight weeks. I was out somewhere and my phone would ring. Someone would tell me they needed me and I couldn’t recognize who it was and the line goes dead. So, I called it back...right...and the person never answered. It would happen 3 or 4 times in the dream and only once did it say someone’s name on the caller ID.  It scared the shit out of me. It’s weirder than how I am explaining it but, I think if we started with more of a plot it would make some sense.” Spencer looks at Brendon and Brendon nods his approval; the wheels in his head are already turning behind those honey colored eyes. He’s onto something but, he won’t say it until he knows for sure so he says “I am sure we can work with that idea. Let me look through what I have and we’ll see if we can piece some things together. Good start, Spence!” Brendon is smiling and Spencer is laughing like he is almost embarrassed, it’s cute. He embarrasses easily.  

“So, what about you Bren, have any lyrics that are worth throwing a melody to?” Spencer says while jotting something down in his notebook.

“Uh, well, kind of? I’ve been writing a lot in the past year but, I don’t think it’s fair to make the whole record about love.” He looks at me and we both erupt into laughter. Spencer looks at Kenny and they both shake their heads. “Okay, anything that isn’t of power ballad status, Mr. Urie?” he says cocking an eyebrow.

“Yea, I think I have some things we can use. Dall, do you and Kenny want to work on some bass lines for a while and we’ll piece together some lyrics?” His look is more of one that says he needs to talk with Spencer alone, rather than actually getting something done so, I agree.

“Sure, we’ll go in the booth and see what we can put together. Meet back here in like an hour?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He says and gives me a small kiss on the cheek without even thinking about it. I can actually feel my face flush a bit although, there is really no reason for it. Spencer just laughs and Kenny pushes me towards the booth.

“Pretty sure they want to talk.” Kenny tells me after the door closes.

“Oh, really? I didn’t seem to notice.” My voice drips in sarcasm and he smacks me hard on the shoulder and I roll my eyes at him. “Honestly, I think they are still wondering if I can do this. I know it sounds really narcissistic but, they seem to not speak at length lately unless it’s to come up with another plan to babysit me.”

“They aren’t babysitting you, Dallon. Brendon is your boyfriend and Spencer is one of your best friends. Contrary to popular belief, they actually do want what is best for you, for everyone. Speaking of everyone, have you spoken to Zack?”

“No. I think B has but, I don’t know what to say to him. Brendon said all of this shit really hurt him and he was pretty upset with me that it happened under his watch and he didn’t even know. I can understand that. I was supposed to tell him I was taking meds and all of that, it literally in our contract for our personal health and safety and I didn’t because I was too ashamed of myself. I didn’t want anyone to know how bad I was and I really do still feel very badly about all of it. If I could have stopped what happened, I would have but my brain was just somewhere else completely.  I should probably call him at some point, huh?”

I look over at Kenny and he is intently listening to what I am saying even though I feel like I am babbling a mile a minute _._

_The more Kenny and I talk, the more I think about what Spence and Brendon are up to and the more my heart beats faster. I feel like I am going to have a panic attack.  I am trying just to breathe normally and hope that it evens out a bit. Maybe it’s just anxiety and I can deal with that but, I can’t have a panic attack in front of everyone. I just can’t._

“Yeah you probably should at some point. I think he would like to talk to you about it. But anyways, I wonder what they are doing out there?” He says as he gets up to look through the small window in the studio door out into the hall.

“I will. I’ll call him tomorrow.”

I fish my phone from my pocket and text Brendon. _“Hope you are close to being done. My anxiety is killing me right now. Please come get me but, don’t make it obvious. Please?”_ I hit send and put my phone back in my pocket. Kenny comes back to sit across from me.

“So, wanna work on the bass lines?”

“Yeah, um, what so-?” I ask him and just then the door opens.

“Can I steal my adorable boyfriend for a few minutes? We’ll be right back.” Brendon promises and he grabs my hand as I set my bass down in its case. His hand feels so warm against mine as I am now realizing how cold I feel.

As soon as we are out the door I hug him tightly and he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him. “What happened?” he whispers. “Hey, it’s okay, babe. I’m here.”

I rest my head on his shoulder “We were talking and we both think that you and Spencer are up to something and I know that sounds ridiculous but, it’s true and I need to talk to Zack because he probably wants to kill me for ignoring him and-“

“Whoa! Stop. Take a deep breath.” He tells me slowly. “Okay? Alright first, Spencer and I were legit working on some lyrics but, since you are so damn cute _and_ incredibly nosey, it’s a surprise love song. That is literally all you are going to find out. Two, Zack is neither mad nor going to kill you. He and I have been talking since day one. He knows you will talk to him when you are ready and he is perfectly fine with that. Three, come with me. I think I can help you.” He takes my hand again and pulls me into one of the empty offices on the other side of the studio and shuts the door behind him.

“I will help you but you have to tell me exactly what you want and where. It has to be quick so, think about it while you take a slow deep breath.”

He looks at me and takes my head in his hands kissing me with his soft lips and his teeth nip just slightly at the corner of my mouth as he pulls away.

“Pinch me? Hard.”

“Where?”

“On my side, either one. Please?”

“Come here and sit down on my lap.”

He takes a seat in a weathered looking leather chair and I sit across his lap with my back against his chest. He pulls my T-shirt up on one side and pinches the soft flesh right above my hip bones. It hurts but not enough to take the edge off.

“More, Bren. Do it harder?”

His fingernails are biting into my flesh and I close my eyes. A slow burn of white hot pain searing across my side and it aches in a way that is insanely calming and centering.

“Fuck, again?” I pleadingly ask him.

“One more then we need to get back.” And he takes his other hand and pinches hard on the opposite side. Once you get past the sting of the pain it takes you to a place where it feels like floating. Like every bad feeling is gone for that small amount of time. I can see why people get addicted to this feeling.

“Hey Dall, you with me?” I barely hear him talking as he rubs the small of my back. Then slowly as if I am waking up, I come back to the present.

“Hi.” I say because it’s the only thing that I can think of.

“I love and hate how much that works for you. You know that, right?” His words aren't angry, more bewildered if anything.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Thank you.” I kiss him hard on the lips and trail a few kisses down his neck as he stands up and helps me to stand as well.

“I love you, Dall. You better?”

“I love you more. I feel better, yes.”

“Alright, let’s go see what they are doing.” He says with a laugh. As we make our way back to the studio he suddenly he stops and looks at me with wide eyes, “You know, they probably think we went to go have sex, right?”

I smile at him and stop to ruffle his hair, “Yep, I am going to let them think that too because I have no fucking clue how to explain this to them even if I wanted to.”

Bren just looks at me knowingly and nods while he opens the door for me. The guys are trying really hard not to make eye contact while he and I smile at each other.

_I just need to get through the rest of the day and then we can figure out all of this._

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon is trying to adjust to being in the studio but his moods are making him a bit unstable. Spencer won't stop with the sympathetic looks in his direction and its pissing him off. Brendon decides it's time for some tough love but, it might have just made things worse.

As much as my time with Brendon has helped, I feel like I am fucking up everything that I touch today. I can’t play for shit and Spencer is giving me these sideways sympathetic looks for god knows what reason. I glance over at Brendon and roll my eyes at him. He looks back at me and the look in his eyes that tells me I am one eye roll away from getting a drum stick thrown at me, but being here in this room makes me feel like I have no business being here.

My only intention today was to get through it without having a panic attack and I already failed at that. And even though Bren did help a bit, it still pisses me off. When we are leaving, Spencer pulls me off to the side and gives me a serious look before asking the question that I suppose everyone’s been too afraid to ask.  “So, uh… how was it for you today?” he says. There is this hint of sympathy in his voice that I am sure was supposed to be concern on his part and I am oddly taking offense to it.

“I am fine, Spence! You will be the first one to know if I’m not okay, Okay?!”

He shakes his head and puts his hand on my shoulder, “Right. Yea, I know. Sorry. See you Thursday. Uh, have a good night.” He turns, walking back towards the booth. Kenny turns and just smiles, shakes his head like he knows how annoying it is to have people constantly ask if you are “okay”. I roll my eyes at him too and head out the door to the car.

It’s around 6pm when we finally leave for the day so the sun is starting its decent; leaving the breeze a bit cooler than it was this morning. I lean against the bumper waiting for Brendon so we can go home when I see him walking toward me with a pissed off look in his eyes. Pretty much the last thing I need right now.

“Just get in the car, now.”

“What the fuck?”

“Right fucking now, Dallon!” He says through gritted teeth.

I open the door and he takes a deep breath which is never a good sign. That usually means he is going to be doing a lot of talking.

“Why in the fuck were you such an asshole to Spencer?”

“Is that what he-“I start to say, he isn’t having any of it though.

“You know what? Stop! Just fucking stop it! I don’t want to fucking hear it, Dallon! Do you realize that all they want is to make sure this isn’t too much for you? Do you even care about how much everyone has bent over backwards to make sure that this is a way more careful process; so that we don’t overwhelm you and ourselves? We are all trying really hard and I just need you to put in a little fucking effort and tell me what the hell is going through your head sometimes. What the fuck is your problem?”

“I…uh…honestly don’t know.” I say sheepishly, “Can we just go home please?”

“Yeah, fine.” he says as he starts the car and we begin the drive back to the house. I am fucking everything up and I know it so I just turn to look out the window, feeling terrible. I don’t like to upset anyone. I really don’t. I really fucked it up even if I didn’t mean to. I try to hold them back but tears are now streaming down both cheeks. We don’t say anything on the ride home and even if I wanted to, I can’t think of anything that would make it any better.

He parks the car and gets out without saying a word and as we step inside the house, the tension inside my head and my heart are just about at the pinnacle of what I can take. My moods have been flickering back and forth today- it was only time before it came to this. I need something and I need to break the silence.

“Bren?” I ask, cautiously.

“Yea, Dall.” He sounds frustrated.

“I need something to take...please? Klonopin?”

I would get it myself but he has it hidden with the rest of my meds. He keeps them somewhere I can’t find them so I am not tempted to take more than the recommended dose. It’s part of my recovery plan, eventhough I hate asking for things that are mine. It makes me feel like a 3 year old. Also, I never ask for them- ever. I feel like I am running out of options today though.

“Oh…Um, okay. Shit. Give me a minute.” He sounds almost flustered; as if he is shocked that I asked eventually getting up to retrieve them from their hiding spot. I hear him banging cabinets around in the kitchen and he appears a minute or so later with two small yellow pills and a small juice glass of water. He offers them both to me; I throw both pills in my mouth and follow them with a drink of water. He just stands there giving me this overly protective look.

“I’m sorry.” He tells me.

I look at him and I cock my head to one side and I sigh, “You aren’t and it’s fine. I know I was being an asshole, Brendon. I just can’t stand feeling like a fucking charity case all the fucking time. I know they are worried and sure they should be but, I am trying to get through all of this without the constant reminder of failure. It’s hard on me to feel like they are walking on eggshells all the time. Every day I wake up not wanting to be me from a year ago; it’s a fucking struggle every day. But, I am trying. I don’t mean to not tell you everything. It feels like- it’s literally like trying to be a new person every day; like new clothes every day and nothing ever quite fits- it’s exhausting.”

He sits down next to me and pulls me into a hug, his head in the crook of my neck, “You’re right, I am not sorry I said it but, I _am_ sorry you are feeling like shit most of the time and I am sorry for yelling, you didn’t deserve that. It kind of made me realize that when you actually _asked_ to take the Klonopin. That’s not something you would do normally. Not unless you felt like there was no other solution and contrary to popular belief, I do pay attention to your moods. I already knew it was a difficult day from the time you woke up. Today started well and ended a bit rocky, I get that it’s not going to be terrific all the time. However, I refuse to not ask you on a daily or hourly basis if you are okay. It’s in my job description and it’s in Spencer’s too. There will be a time when we don’t ask all the time. We aren’t there yet. None of us were prepared for what happened last year and none of us want to go through that again. I don’t want you to have to go through that again. “

He pulls away from my neck and when I bring my eyes to his, I can tell he is legitimately worried about me. Hell, I can’t say he shouldn’t be. I wake up alright but my moods switch up so randomly sometimes that I can’t even keep up.

 _I am worried for me._  

The pills are starting to make my head swirl just a bit. He’s talking, but I don’t hear him- my brain is starting to mush a little. That's the main reason I hate taking anything, even if it helps at the moment, is that my shitty issues will still be there when I wake up. I must have spaced out for a minute because he is snapping his fingers in front of my eyes.

“Hey, Dall? Why don’t we get you to bed, okay? Wanna take a nap for a while?” he asks.

“Yeah, I am a little worn out right now.” I confess, “Come sleep with me?”

“Just for a little bit, Okay?  I have to call Zack in a little while. Jeez, I forgot how those pills knock the shit out of you.” He helps me to my feet and we start off to the bedroom and as I lazily shuffle towards the bed, he laughs rubbing the small of my back. Everything is kind of moving in slow motion for me so it feels like it’s taking hours to just lie down. He lies down next to me and pulls the covers up to my chest.

“Bren, I’m sorry.” I say slowly.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I don’t want to be here sometimes. I’m sorry I am holding everyone back.” My words are slow but they are deliberate. I am still aware of what I am saying even though I am fighting off the meds.

“Dall, shush. I know your brain doesn’t work like everyone else’s. I know you want to be here. We’ll fight your demons together, okay? Now, shhh time to take a nap, your meds are making you loopy.”

He pulls his hand through my hair and brushes it back off of my forehead. “Shhh, Dall time to sleep.” I can barely hear him but I swear I hear him say, “Don’t ever leave me, Dallon.” It kind of breaks my heart.

I wake up feeling too warm and kick the covers off of me. I try to get my eyes to refocus so I can read the clock on the nightstand, 8:30pm. I’ve been asleep for 2 hours almost. I figure I better get up to find Bren, tell him I’m sorry for being such an asshole, and maybe he won’t hate me? I make a mental note to call Spencer and tell him the same.  As I make my way down the stairs I can hear Brendon talking, I think back and vaguely remember him saying he was going to be talking with Zack later so, I just head to the kitchen for some water.

I sit down at the breakfast bar waiting for him to finish his call, when the doorbell rings. I have no idea who the hell is coming over at almost 9 at night- I wander over to the door to answer it anyways; seems as if Brendon didn’t hear it ring. I look out through the peep hole and it's Spencer. I unlock the door and as I open it, he looks as surprised to see me as I am him.

“What brings you around this time of night?” I say a little bit incoherently, I guess the meds are still working. I feel a bit dizzy so I lean against the door frame.

“Just wanted to come over to talk, I should have called first. Um, are you okay?” he looks concerned but, he kind of always looks like that.

“Yeah, the meds sedate me for a while I’m just getting up from a nap, Bren’s on the phone with Zack- maybe? Actually, I’m not real sure. Come on in, Spence.”

“Dude, we can talk later, I don’t wanna screw up your sleep or anything.” He says.

“No, I’m good it’s just going to take me a bit to process things for a few minutes, don’t get freaked out. I hardly ever take them so they work a little too well sometimes.” I laugh at that because it’s true. I don’t take them and when I do, I am so fucking sedated for like 4 hours that you could cut my arm off and I would let you. It would still hurt but, I’d let you with no questions asked.

“What the hell are you taking, horse tranquilizers?”

I shake my head “no” and smile at him, “Klonopin. I don’t remember how many B gave me. Enough, I guess? I slept for a few hours.”  I sit next to Spencer on the couch. I am still really lethargic and I figure his shoulder is just a good place as any to rest my head.

“I see. Are you sure you are alright?“ He asks as he pats my leg.

“Yep. Hey, Spence?”

“Hmmm? What’s up, Dall?”

“I am really sorry I was such an asshole today. I didn’t mean it.” Even though this is not a subject I would normally shed a tear over, I am so tired and emotionally drained, I feel my eyes start to flood and I can’t stop them.

“Dall, we’ve talked about this, dude. I get it. We’ll figure it out some other time. I honestly just wanted to see if there was anything you needed. I thought the day went well besides you being a bit snippy at the end.” He takes the sleeve of his hoodie and wipes the tears from my eyes. I am such a mess right now and I was such an asshole to him but, he is being so nice to me that it makes me cry a little more.

“Spence, I swear I am not a fucking cry baby. It’s the fucking meds… and you’re allowed to get mad at me if I am an asshole to you. I won’t do anything stupid, ya know?”

“Trust me, if I was mad you would have known it. I wasn’t mad, Dall.” He laughs a little and scoots back forcing me to pick my head up off his shoulder. “You’re one of my best friends I just wanted to see for myself that you were alright. I do the same for Brendon and Kenny; you guys do the same for me.”

“Thanks, Spence.” I reach out to hug him as Brendon walks into the room.

“Did I miss something?” He says cautiously.

“Nah, Dall and I are just reinforcing our bromance.” Spencer looks over at me and I laugh out loud. It felt good to laugh after having such a shitty afternoon.

“I see. Well, take whatever you want in the house Spence, but the boy here he's mine. Sorry!” Brendon shrugs his shoulders at Spencer and then squeezes in between us on the couch. He presses a kiss to my temple and we all sit there for a few minutes. Spence and Brendon start talking about some weird cartoon that they used to watch as kids and before I realize it, I start to nod off again.

“Hey sleepyhead, you’re drooling on my leg. Less medication next time, yea? I like my boyfriend to be a little less comatose.” I hear Bren say. I give him a slight nod and my eyes slip shut again.

 

I thought I dreamed that conversation with Spencer and Brendon, but when I wake up I am still on the couch- although the boys have disappeared. I sit up slowly and make my way towards the only other room in the townhouse that Bren would really spend any time, the music room. It’s fully soundproofed for the sake of our neighbors but I can still hear someone playing the drums. It’s about 2am but, that’s never stopped them from playing this late before. I knock quietly in case they are actually recording but no one comes to the door. I open it slowly, Brendon is behind his kit, sweating and playing as hard as he can. He always looks so amazing playing the drums. He always puts his entire heart and soul into his playing but sometimes he uses it as catharsis, I suspect this is one of those sessions by how intense his playing is.

Spence is sitting on the couch writing in a notebook. Neither of them has noticed me yet. I close the door slowly and cross the room to sit near Spencer on the couch, he smiles at me and pats the couch cushion as an invite. He pulls the notebook out of his lap and rests it on the arm of the couch. Brendon has finished his set and is towel drying the sweat from his face and hair. He lies down on the carpeted floor in front of us, chest rising up and down as his breathing starts to even back out.

“You’re awake!” Brendon says beaming.

I put a single finger to my chin and tilt my head as if in thought, “Seems that way, yes.”

“Smart ass. Welcome back to the land of the living.” He says and smacks my leg with the back of his hand.

“Whatcha writing, Spence?” I ask as I lean over trying to steal his notebook. He smacks my hand and pushes me back.

“Nothing important, just some random notes on things.” He looks at his watch, “I guess I better get going, it’s late.” He starts to get up but, I pull him back down to the couch.

“Just stay here, it’s too late to drive home. You can sleep in the guest room or here if you want.” I tell him.

“Dall is right, Spence. It was a long day, no need to be driving so late and risk falling asleep at the wheel.” Brendon chimes in.

“Yea, I guess you’re right. I’ll sleep here, I am already comfortable. Thanks, guys.” He pats me on the shoulder and I move to lying next to Brendon on the floor.

“You wanna go upstairs or sleep down here on the floor?” He asks.

“Slumber party!” Spencer says in a sleepy voice. “Yay!”

Brendon and I both laugh at Spencer. He can go from awake to sleeping in 3 seconds flat but, the time in between, when he is almost punch drunk tired; that is “suggestible and fun” Spencer, it can also manifest the “serious” Spencer, saying the things he wouldn’t readily say or share in his normally conscious state.

Brendon heads upstairs to get pillows and blankets and when I stand to go get a glass of water, Spencer stops me, grabbing my arm pulling me down to sit on the couch. He pulls my arm taught across his lap, his fingers tracing the two long scars running vertically down the inner part of my arm. I watch him for a few seconds; he is very carefully running his finger down one scar and then the other, over and over.

“Sp-Spence, whatcha doing?” I ask. My voice barely audible.

“Did it hurt?” his voice clearly trying not to break.

“Yeah, Spence, it did. Not as much as my heart hurt though.” I tell him honestly.

His finger stops tracing and he picks his head up, looking me in the eyes, “I hope it never hurts like that ever again, Dallon. You don’t deserve these.” He places my arm back into my own lap and I stare at him for a few seconds.

“I did at the time.” I tell him. I get to my feet and walk out to the kitchen. I stand by the island my back against it for support and take a deep breath to try to stop the aching in my chest. I can hear Brendon coming down the stairs, “Need help, Babe?” I ask him as I walk over to the other side of the kitchen.

“Nah, I think I have it, c’mon. Let’s get some sleep.”

As we wander back to the music room we can hear snoring. Entering, we find Spencer fast asleep, his notebook hastily thrown to the floor. Brendon covers Spence with a blanket and I pick up the notebook to place on the table when one of the phrases on the page catches my eye. Written in sloppy handwriting across the bottom of the page it said “Fixation or Psychosis?” and in smaller print under that it says “We’re far too young to die.” My heart stops for a second and I quickly close the notebook, it must be the lyrics they were working on in the studio. I would love to stay up all night and dwell on it but, Brendon’s voice interrupts me.

“Come lay down, Dallon.” He says. We snuggle closely on the floor, his arm pulling me into him and I fall asleep listening to his heart beat and thinking about what else that notebook holds.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon is conflicted between what is right and wrong. Spencer proves once again to be an amazing friend.

I wake up to hear snoring in stereo; both Brendon and Spencer breathing and snoring so loudly, I feel like I am back on tour. I roll my eyes and sigh. I haven’t the foggiest idea as to what time it is, but my body won’t let me sleep any longer. I squint and can barely make out the time on the wall clock; it’s only 5:45am. I lay there restlessly weighing my options of either waiting for B to wake up or getting up and going for a walk when I remember Spencer’s notebook on the table. I untangle myself from Brendon and he shifts just slightly, but doesn’t wake. I lay the blanket back over him and tip toe quietly over to the table beside the couch. The tattered notebook is still sitting where I left it hours earlier and I desperately want to read what is scribbled on the pages, but I also don’t want to violate his privacy.

 _Spencer is such a good friend; I wouldn’t want to violate his trust any more than I have, right?_ I think to myself.

My curiosity gets the best of me and I carefully and silently pick up the notebook and just as I turn to walk over to the door, Spencer starts to stir and turns over.

“Dall?” He says, sleepily. “What are you doing? What fucking time is it?” 

My heart starts to race and I know I should have just left the fucking notebook alone. As I turn, I hide the book behind my back even though it’s still pretty dark in the room.

“5:45 - I can’t sleep any longer.” I whisper. “Shhh, don’t wake Brendon up.” I walk back over to Spencer and stand between him and the table. “You getting up or going back to sleep?” I ask him, and as I do, I slide the book back onto the table behind me. My heart is beating like a fucking bass drum, I can feel it in my chest.

“5:45… _in the fucking morning?_ Jesus fucking Christ, Dallon- just go back to sleep! You don’t need to be up so early anyways. C’mere.” He demands and holds his arms open. The blanket drapes over him almost like a cape.  

“It’s cool, Spence. I really can't sleep any longer. Maybe I’ll just go for a walk for a bit. Go back to sleep, Spence.” I start to walk towards the door again and he grabs me by the wrist.

“No, you aren’t. It’s too early, Dallon. I don’t want you to be up and alone this early. C’mere.” He says this so sincerely. His eyes tired, but always compassionate.

He’s probably right; nothing good comes from almost 6am. I give in and sit next to him on the couch. He pulls the covers over me and he tucks me under his arm, sighs and pats my shoulder.

“Why are you shaking, Dall? You alright?” he says quietly.

“I have no idea, Spence.”  I really didn’t even know that I was shaking, adrenaline maybe?

“Close your eyes and breathe. You're safe. Everything is good.” He says soothingly.

And he’s right I am safe; safe from everyone-but myself. I almost violated Spencer’s privacy just out of curiosity. That’s pretty fucked up. I sigh and he pats my shoulder again.

“Thanks Spence.” I sometimes think he knows things I don’t by what he says and does. He has a sixth sense for things. He always knows the bad before it happens. He is always the one to be there for a fall out or to comfort someone and I think that’s why it fucked him up so much when he didn't see last year’s incident coming before it did. I will always feel guilty for that in general but, I feel like out of everyone, Spencer was affected the most. He’s always been in tune with people’s emotions. He is always the first one to offer a hug or a cuddle. Because if there is one thing our band doesn't have, it’s personal space boundaries. That brings both the good and the bad but, in this case, I’m glad. Even though Brendon is 4 feet away from me, it’s nice that Spencer cares so much. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths.

“It’s going to be fine, Dallon. Everything is fine.” He whispers to me again.

_I just wished I believed him._

I lay there for an hour or so only opening my eyes when I hear Brendon laughing softly and poking me in the side.

“Just what is so funny, Mr. Urie?” I whisper.

“Why are you and Spencer cuddling?” He asks, clearly still amused.

“Long story- you getting up now?” I ask almost too eagerly.

“Yea, you need to take your meds anyways.” He can be so annoying about my damn meds. I roll my eyes and untuck myself from under Spencer’s arm. He'll probably sleep for another few hours if we let him. I let Brendon grab my hand while we quietly walk out of the room into the kitchen. He rummages around in a cupboard somewhere making entirely too much noise for so early in the morning. I roll my eyes again and start the coffee maker; taking a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. He then appears with two pills and a glass of orange juice.

“It’s way too early to take these.” I groan. “It would be nice to not have to do this every goddamn day.” I grumble to pretty much myself because he isn't going to debate this. In fact, he gives me the “we're not debating this” eyebrow raise so I swallow the pills and give him a dirty look.

“I actually I woke up early so we could have sex but, since you are being a _grumpy ass_ you are more than welcome to go back to bed if you'd like.” He smiles his biggest shit eating grin and I love him and hate him all at once. I contemplate the two proffered options and when given the choice,  _Sex with Brendon Urie will win every time._

I stand and push the stool back in. “Upstairs.” I say as I start walking towards the stairs. He follows behind me laughing; grabbing at my waist as we get to the top of the stairs. Pushing me against the wall and biting softly on my collarbone, his hands slide upwards under my T-shirt pulling it off and throwing it to the floor. "You won't be needing that." He practically growls.

“I am going to make you feel so good, baby.” He whispers in my ear and I melt.

His fingers are tangling in my hair as my head tilts slightly to meet his soft, wet lips. He moans quietly as he pushes against me, his knee finding its way between my legs and my almost natural reaction is to rub against it in an effort to help relieve the ache in between my legs. He palms my erection and laughs, "God, you are so good for me. Come- let me be good for you."

He grabs my hand again and pulls me into the bedroom; the both of us falling into a heap onto the bed. His hands pull my pants down over my hips and my erection springs free, now throbbing almost painfully.

"Look at how much you want this. You need this don't you, Dallon? You need me inside you?" He breathes into my neck and I guide him to my lips kissing him with more than passion. "Fuck, Bren. Yes, I need you, please." I reply.  Fuck it being 7:30 in the morning, if this is how he wants to wake up- I’ll take this any day.

“Dallon, get on your stomach.” He tells me as he pushes the covers off the bed. I hear him rummaging around in the drawer for what I can only surmise is lube and a condom. Within seconds I can feel his calloused hands on my back; rubbing up my spine and then down to my ass eventually gently spreading my thighs apart. The heat from his body on mine only fuels my desire for him as he starts leaving a trail of kisses and alternated biting at my skin all the way up my back.

The sensations are almost too much.

“Do you even know what you do to me, Dallon? Goddamn. I want to sink so deep inside of you- want to hear you scream my name, baby.” He says with a hint of devilish undertone into my neck. My body is shivering with over-stimulation and adrenaline; he hasn't even really touched me yet. As he slides back down my body; hands roaming everywhere they can get to. I hear the click of the bottle top of lube and not long after, he is circling his thumb in calculated motions around my entrance. I can't help but shudder out a shaky breath as he starts to slowly insert a finger into me; teasing me as he grazes my prostate.

“Two fingers and then I have to have you, Dall. I can't wait much longer.” His words sound so far away but soon a second finger is inside me and I am pulled back to reality. The pressure of his fingers sliding so slowly in and out of me, I am trying hard not to fuck back onto him; I need more.

“Bren, please. I need you!” My voice is loud and needy- _I am begging_. I need him to fuck me _and I need him to do it now._ He pauses and pushes his fingers in slow and deep, curving his fingers up in just the right way to reach my prostate. He twists his wrist to make his hand angle just a little bit deeper and I swear to god am going to come right now if he doesn’t stop and start fucking me.

“Brendon! I am so fucking close –Oh fuck, Please?!” I plead with him. He is agonizingly slow at removing his fingers and I hear him opening the condom; the click of the bottle of lube once more and he is shifting my thighs just a bit farther apart.

“God, Dallon. You look so fucking beautiful. I love you in this position.” He says this almost as if he is in awe. His hands slide up my ass and land one on each hip; the weight of his body pinning me to the bed as he begins to enter me. He starts slow at first to allow me to stretch around him. The burn of having him stretch me open isn’t painful, it’s like a precursor to the amazing sex I am about to have. He sinks in a little deeper. His fingertips are digging into my hips and simultaneously holding me down to the mattress.

“You are so tight, babe. You are always so fucking tight for me.” He says sinking in deeper and deeper still until I feel him against me, and in me, entirely. The sensation of being so full and having him press me into the mattress is more than I can even comprehend as I start to float over to pleasure overload. He is picking up his pace a bit and pulling almost all the way out and then almost slamming back in. 

“Bren, I am so close.” I confess in a strained moan. His fingertips dig in further and he shifts his legs so that he can spread my legs apart even more. The new angle means he is hitting my prostate on every thrust and I am almost seeing stars. I feel that familiar heat and pull in my pelvis and within 30 seconds I am coming loud and messy onto our bed. “Fuck Brendon, Fuck!” and I don't even care if I wake up Spencer at this point. I can’t help but be loud. Brendon starts fucking me hard and fast through my orgasm and it’s just on this side of almost too much. I pull him over the edge with me and he comes shaking and sweating into me. His body collapsing onto mine, panting to catch his breath.

“Goddamn.” Is all he can say as he pulls out of me; disposing of the condom, and then sliding next to me in bed.

I can't even think right now but, I manage to crush my lips against his and kiss him with as much energy as I can muster. He reciprocates the kiss; laying his arm across my back and pulls into me as much as he can. Our breathing evening out after a few minutes, he starts to sit up.

“Fuck, Dall, that was amazing.” He says as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Right?” I agree. I sit up next to him on our bed and we both just look at each other.

“That was the most phenomenal sex I have ever had before 8am.” I smile widely at him and he nods in agreement. “I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but thank you.”

“Just for being you; you deserve all good things in life.” He professes and kisses me on the forehead. I sigh and snuggle in just a bit closer to him. It’s moments like these, when I feel how much he loves me that I feel so grounded. In a strange way it feels validating. Having a constant thing in my life such as Brendon, has been the best thing I could have ever imagined.

“We better get up and get moving if we are going to get anything done today.” He starts to say and suddenly there is a knock at the door, rather the door frame of the door we apparently forgot to shut. Brendon tries to stifle a laugh and I bury my head as far into the pillow as I possibly can.

“Hi Spence.” Brendon laughs. “Did we… uh…did we wake you?” and now he is in full blown church giggles. I smack his chest with the back of my hand.

  
“Nah, I just waited for the moaning and screaming to stop before I came up here to let you know I was leaving.” There is a smirk and sarcasm in his voice even the dimmest of people would be able to detect. I turn over and cover myself with a pillow.

  
“Dude, why bother, I've seen your junk more than your boyfriend has I am pretty sure.”

I ponder that statement for a few seconds before I just nod and shrug my shoulders. Sadly, he’s probably right and Brendon is _still_ laughing.

“Anyways, I've got a breakfast thing with Kenny but, I didn't want to leave before saying thanks for letting me stay over. I appreciate it. I'll give you a call later. See ya guys.” He says as he walks away and soon after I hear the door shut. I turn to Brendon and hit him in the head with a pillow.

“Is it weird that Spencer has seen both of us naked more times than any of us can count and he is just so blasé about it?” I ask in all sincerity.

“Spence doesn't care who is naked. That is probably the reason why we are all still in a band _and_ still friends. He is just one of those people who could honestly care less. He cares more about the emotional connection with people. It’s part of his charm.”

“Yea I suppose you're right. I just feel bad for his eyes and ears sometimes. Remind me to buy him something nice.” I laugh.

“Yea, yea, yea. He'll survive. Now, get up and get dressed. We have some things we need to do today and I don’t want to be out all day doing them.” He says as he smacks my ass and I laugh, I love morning sex with Brendon Urie.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallons realizes that he is a little more than insecure about his physical appearance after he forgets to cover his scars. Brendon is there once again to remind him that it doesn't matter. An old friend comes to visit and Dallon thinks it time to come clean...

After a morning of amazing sex, it's nearly 9 before we are out the door.  We eventually make our way to the grocery store, the dry cleaners, the music store, and finally the pharmacy where we pick up yet _another_ months worth of my medications. As we walk into the pharmacy, I see my reflection in the glass door and I realize that I am wearing a short sleeve T-shirt which means my scars are visible. I think back to early this morning when Spencer was navigating my scars gently with his fingers asking me if it hurt. I frown and self-consciously tuck the inside of my arm to my side and take a deep breath.

I try to tell myself that it’s no big deal, but the more I think about it, the more I am starting to panic and It suddenly feels like every person in here is now staring at me. Not because I am in a band or because I am standing here with Brendon Urie; because I am certain they saw my scars.

_How could they have not seen them?_

_They know my head is fucked up. I feel sick to my stomach just thinking about it. I try to just shrug it off; I am overreacting, right? I am aware that everyone has issues but people don’t need to know about mine; I am not ready for it to be public knowledge._  

As we wait in line, it feels like every single person in the pharmacy is judging me and it twists my head too much; I can't deal with it right now. I am trying my hardest to not run back out to the car.  My hands are starting to sweat and my heart is beating to some fucking rhythm that makes me feel like I am about to die. I squeeze Brendon’s arm and he gives me a strange look.

“You’re looking a little pale, babe. What’s the matter?” he whispers to me.

“Can we leave, please? I can’t be here. There are too many people. Can we go? _Bren, I need to go_.” I whisper back hurriedly; my voice is pleading.

_The anxiety I feel right now is beyond what it should be and I squeeze his arm harder._

“We have to get your meds, you’re almost out, Dall. It’s just going to be a few more minutes.” His eyes have turned into honey colored pools of sympathy. “Take a really slow deep breath; only another minute, okay? We're next.” 

I take a deep breath and let it out as slow as possible. I feel Brendon’s hand snake around to my side; his fingers slowly taking my skin and pinching just slightly above my hip. I gasp only because he told me he would never initiate this on his own and I would _never_ expect him to do it in public. It’s not hard enough by any means, but the sentiment of how he wants me to feel safe and protected doesn’t go unnoticed; even in my anxious state. He looks at me and smiles slyly and I let out another deep breath as we make our way to the pick-up window.

“Hi, picking up for Dallon Weekes. He should have two.” Bren tells the pharmacist. He is calm and collected and I am slowly imploding with every passing second. The pharmacist asks if I have any questions and I slowly shake my head “no”.

_Everything feels like it is going in slow motion and I am digging my fingernails into the palm of my hand just to distract my brain a little._

Brendon finally pays and then guides me out of the pharmacy with his hand on the small of my back. By the time we make it to the car, I am legitimately having a meltdown and I can’t control it. Tears are now streaming down my face and Brendon pulls me into a tight hug.

“I’m- I’m s-sorry, B.” I manage to stutter in between sobs.

“Shhh, Dall. It’s fine- you're going to be fine, okay? Tell me what happened.” He says softly, still holding onto me.

“It j-just felt like everyone was j-judging me, Bren. They all know I am- I am fucked up…my scars. I've never shown anyone. I don't want them to see, B.” I tell him, and I can't seem to stop crying long enough to breathe. He wipes my eyes with his thumb and cleans my face off with his shirt.

“No one is judging you. Nobody saw them, Dall. Honest. No one knows what happened. There was never a press leak. Absolutely no one outside of the band and Pete knows what is going on or what happened. _Pete didn't even tell Patrick_ and you and I both know he tells him _everything._ ”

I nod as he tries to dry the tears from my eyes again. I know he’s right, but my brain is just too jumbled right now to think logically. I take a deep breath and he takes my hand in his noticing the marks made by my nails; a few actually drawing a small amount of blood. He rubs his thumb over the back of my hand and wrist.

“I didn't mean to do that. I wasn't trying to hurt myself.”  I say, a little defensively.

“I know- but I think you need to cut your fingernails.” He says with a small laugh, “Let’s get home and we can talk about this, okay? Are you ok if I start driving?” His voice is soft and slow. Not patronizing, but gentle as if he is trying not to startle me; it’s comforting.

“Yes. Home, Please?” As I practically beg him to start driving. I try for the next few minutes to calm my breathing. Brendon is still holding my hand trying to soothe me and I feel a little less like I am going to die by the time we pull into the driveway.

He parks the car and starts to open the door, “Go ahead into the house, Dall. I can get this stuff on my own.”

“It’s fine, Bren- I can help. It’s alright.”  I ignore his disapproving look as I grab one of the bags from the trunk and make my way to the front door. We spend the next few minutes bringing in the bags and putting things away. The whole time he keeps 3 steps behind me as if I am going to do something stupid and he needs to stop it.

“Jesus Christ, Bren. Stop following me. I am fine. It was just a small meltdown. Shit happens, right?” I tell him earnestly. I grab his hand “B, I am fine.”

He nods and then pulls me into a hug. He tucks his head into the crook of my neck and sighs softly. “I never know exactly what to do for you. I’m sorry if I fucked up.” He confesses.

“Wait, what?” I am confused. “How do you think you fucked up exactly?” I ask him as I put him more at arm’s length in front of me. He drops his head and looks down at his shoes; finally looking up at me after about 30 seconds. “Bren, what do you mean?”

“Fuck. I told you I wouldn't do the pain thing unless you asked. I got nervous and for some reason I just did it. I’m really sorry, Dall. I broke one of my own goddamn rules.” He looks out the window and then back at me, “I just wanted you to be okay. It was almost a natural reaction. I kind of hate myself right now for it.”

“You did the right thing Bren. It did help a little bit. It really did. It wasn't like how we did it before; it didn’t make me get out of my head or anything. It made me feel a bit safer though; it gave me a few extra minutes so I didn't have a breakdown in front of all those people in the pharmacy.”

He looks relieved reaching out once more to hug me. I hug him back and pull him to the couch with me. “I love that you were there for me and trying to protect me. One day, I promise you won't have to. I'll figure things out eventually. ”

“No, I will always protect you, Dallon. I love you, you're mine forever. Do you think I protect you only because of that? I don’t. You protect me too, you just don’t realize it. We’re in this together; it’s just another part of us. I am okay with that- I am perfectly fine with that.” His eyes look up at mine and I think he’s about to cry so I pull him to me and hug him as tight as I can.

“You're right, Bren. We're in this together, thank you for believing in me. It will get better one day. I love you so much.”

Just as we are about to separate from each other’s embrace, my phone rings. I fish it from my pocket and grin at Brendon.

“Who is it?” Bren asks.

I look at my phone and shake my head. “It’s William Beckett.” I smile as I answer it and Brendon looks bewildered. I haven’t heard from William since last tour.

“Bill Beckett, how the hell are you?”

“Hey, Dall! I’m good, man. I haven’t talked with you in so long, how is everything?”

“Um, well, great…I suppose? We should get together soon. I miss talking to you.” Brendon looks pleased.  He knows William is pretty much my best friend and I haven't really hung out or even spoken with anyone outside of the band for a long time.

“Same man...hey, I am in town right now. Do you want to get some coffee?” He asks.

“Actually, why don't you come over to the house? Bren and I are just hanging out today- I'm sure he'd love to see you too.” Bren nods and smiles at me.

“Awesome! Text me your address. See you in a bit, Dall. Bye.”

“Bye, Bill.” I say and press the end button. I text him our address and look at Brendon, “Bills coming over in a bit, a lot has happened since I last really talked to him. It’s okay that I tell him about us, right?”

“Yeah, of course! Bill’s a great guy it’s not like he is going to sell a story to the tabloids or something. Besides, most of our friends have been placing bets on us anyways.” He laughs and I smack him lightly on the arm. 

“Oh, really? Like whom?!” I ask inquisitively.

“Well, I am sure Spence and Kenny had a bet going. Zack probably knows even though he doesn't know for certain where we stand, and then there’s Pete and Patrick; but they have their own thing going on so, they don’t really meddle in anyone else’s business much. However, none of that matters though because I am the one that won the best prize in all of this anyways.” He leans over and kisses me sweetly on the cheek. I feel my face heat up just a bit. Even after all this time, he can still embarrass me by being so cute.

“Have I told you that I loved you lately, Bren? I mean it, I am lucky to have you.”

He smiles and presses another kiss on my cheek. “I love you more. Now, you better go ready; I’ll clean up a bit down here.”

I've just finished putting a new shirt on when Bren calls me downstairs. By the time I get to the front door, there stands William Beckett pulling away from a hug with Brendon. He then pulls me into a tight hug as well. “It’s so good to see you Bilvy! I missed you, man.” I say as I hug him back. He is just as I remembered except his hair has grown more since I saw him last. His brown locks are pulled back into a loose ponytail, a light brown fedora perched on his head, and the same signature scarf hanging around his neck.

“It’s nice to be back, Dall. Nice place you have here; you moved almost a year ago now, right?”  He asks as he takes a look around the foyer and living room.

“Yeah. Bren and I moved shortly after the um... the last t-tour.” My voice happens to break on the word “tour”. Bilvy gives me a strange look and I pat his shoulder, “Come on, we've got a lot of catching up to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20 will be up soon! Thank you for sticking around and reading! <3


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> William and Dallon haven't talked a lot in the past year so keeping all of this a secret wasn't too hard. Dallon isn't looking for sympathy, he only wants someone to understand where he is coming from...

The heat of midday makes it almost too warm to be outside. Bilvy, Bren, and I are all sat on the back patio; Brendon’s nursing a beer and William and I are both drinking lemonade. The condensation from our glasses makes a pool of water on the table and I run my fingers through it idly while we make small talk.

_I’m working up the courage to explain everything to Bilvy and I think he can sense that something is amiss in my life._

“I feel like we’ve been off track the past year. So, what’s been going on in your lives?  You guys must be busy in the studio, right?” Bilvy asks and looks at me.

Just then, Brendon starts to stand up; almost as if on cue. He kisses me on the forehead and says “We just started back a few days ago. We’re pretty stoked about getting the record done. As much as I would love to sit here and chat, I’ve got some things I need to work out for that song Spence and I are writing; I’ll leave you two to talk.” He retreats into the house leaving Bilvy and I alone. 

I smile and Bilvy looks at me slyly and says, “I owe Travie 20 bucks for that. I knew you two would end up together! How long has it been?”

I laugh at the thought of placing a bet on our relationship; _Brendon was right…that little shit_. “A little more than 9 months, it’ll be a 10 in a few weeks, actually.”

“Wow, that’s awesome! Congrats! I always thought you two had something special.” He says and pats my arm lightly, “That is really great, Dall.”

“Yeah, it is great. Brendon’s been my saving grace this past year. I don’t know where I- I…uh…would be without him. Honestly. He _saved_ me, Bilvy.” I slowly look over to William and the look on his face is of confusion and worry.

“What do you mean he _saved_ you?” His eyes are intently focused on mine and my heart is beating out of my chest. I sit silent trying to pick my words carefully.

 _I should have kept my mouth shut_.

“Dall, what did you mean by that?”

“Well, you know my life hasn’t always been the best and I’ve dealt with some pretty shitty times in the past, right?”

“Yeah, last you told me, you were seeing a therapist and you had started some anti-depressants. Did they stop working?”

“I’m not really sure to be honest. I’ve been alright for the most part up until about a year ago. We- uh…” I pause as my voice starts to crack. I clear my throat and take a deep breath.

“Hey, it’s alright, you don’t have to tell me.” He says softly.

“No, no. I need to tell you this. You’re one of my best friends and I need to get this off my chest.”

I take a deep breath and start again. “So, uh, about a year and a half ago, I started to cut again. I was stressed out, we were on this huge tour and-“

“You never told me you were cutting again, Dall. I wish I had known. I would have come out to be with you on tour.” He interrupts. 

“I know you would have, Bilvy. I didn’t tell anyone; I didn’t want anyone to know. Shit, I think you were the only one that _did_ know about it in the past.  But, um… so, one night I played a really shitty set and I was a little out of my comfort zone. Everything started to feel too overwhelming; I needed to get out of my head because I was slowly driving myself into a frantic mess. We didn’t have a hotel night for two days so, I had decided to try to do it in the bathroom on the bus. I guess I forgot to lock the door and Bren walked in on me mid-destruction. I think it scared him as much as it did me. He kind of yelled at me in the nicest way possible. He then ransacked my bunk and my belongings for all sharp objects… which he took away from me. I was really ashamed of myself that I let someone find out. I spent a lot of time looking over my shoulder and trying to keep everything such a big secret. I guess half of me was grateful but the other half was so fucking embarrassed.  Brendon kept his eye on me for the rest of the tour and we became really close but, my head was never back in the game. I had this dark fucking cloud hanging over me for whatever reason.  I never let on to any of the guys that things were less than great though; I even had Brendon fooled at some point.”

“Fuck, Dall. I am so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I should have known, dude.” He grabs my hand, “Shit, I owe Brendon a huge hug for being there for you.”

“When we got home from tour, I wasn’t any better and from the moment I got home, shit just got worse. I was convinced that no one wanted me around and I didn’t want myself around.” 

_It occurs to me as the words spill from my lips that I have never really said this out loud. I’ve thought it plenty of times but, doesn’t everyone at some point?_

“Wait. Fuck.  Are you trying to tell me you-“He scrubs his face with both hands and hangs his head. “Dall, tell me you didn’t?”

I drop my eye contact and try stare at anything but him. That look, the one of disappointment, it’s slowly spreading across his face and I can’t bear to see it on anyone else, especially him.

“I was in a _really_ dark place. I stopped taking my meds on tour.  I saved all of them; hidden away where no one would question it. I- I wanted to die. I planned on taking them and being done with everything. But in reality, I got exceptionally drunk and I cut the shit out of my arm.” I slowly extend my arm and Bilvy takes a sharp breath in.

“Dall, oh, fuck dude. I don’t even know what to say.” His eyes are focused on the scars on my arm and it reminds me of the way Spencer was fixated on them. He too reaches out and touches them gently, carefully. “I am so sorry you went through this.” His voice is almost a whisper.

“Me too.” I say earnestly. “I had apparently blacked out after I did this and somehow woke up the next morning; I never did take the pills. I woke up to my phone ringing; it was Brendon. I had made plans to hang out with him that day and he was at my doorstep wanting in. I must have blacked out again because when I woke up, from what I remember and from what I was told; he was holding me and begging me to stay awake; to stay with him. I vaguely remember him calling Spencer to come help him. Spencer, Kenny, and Brendon helped to clean me up, took me to Urgent care, and called my therapist. Bren has been making sure I am taking my meds and going to therapy and Spencer and Kenny have been amazing moral support. I am so sorry I kept all of this from you.  You are the only one outside of the band that knows besides Pete and since he is technically my boss, they had to tell him.”

“Wow, Dall. I never expected this. Honestly, I feel like an asshole that I didn’t see any signs or anything. I mean we talked but, you never gave me any reason to think you were getting bad again.”

“Well, yeah I got really good at pretending to be happy.”

“Dall, I couldn’t imagine life without you, dude. Damn.” He says solemnly. 

“Brendon is the reason I am still here. I know for a fact that if he hadn’t come over, I probably would have done it at some point anyways. I broke a lot of promises that day to people really close to me. I hurt a lot of people that I would _never_ in a million years hurt on purpose. Spencer beat himself up over this for a long time. He thinks he could have helped had he known what was going on but, when you are in that mindset, no matter how much you love or care about someone; you become really selfish out of necessity. ” I tell him.

“I understand that, man. I get it. I mean you’ve pulled me out of some pretty dark places before. I always had so much appreciation for the fact that you were there for me.” He takes his sunglasses off and wipes his eyes with the heel of his hand.  He looks at me and sighs. “I am glad you are still here, Dall. Honestly, I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t.”

 As he says this, my heart flutters a bit. I know how sincere he is with his words. I mean it’s Bilvy for god’s sake! He has always had my back since I was new on the scene. He has always been a true friend.

“I am sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, Bilvy. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what the hell this meant for me and to be honest, still don’t even know. As of now, we have half a record, mostly on the cutting room floor, because of me. The guys spend the majority of their time trying to figure out how to make shit less stressful and I almost always feel like a burden. I just didn’t know how to tell anyone. Just promise me that you won’t say anything to anyone, not even Gabe; I’d like to tell him when you two are both here. No one knows about this or about Brendon and I. We would like to keep it pretty hush-hush until we decide it’s time.”

“Of course, Dude! You know I won’t say anything to anyone. Gabe is in Uruguay visiting family but, he does send his love. I told him I was going to give you a call when I got out here; I skyped with him this morning, actually.”

He definitely smiles when he says this and it makes me happy. I try to redirect the conversation to Bilvy and his life instead of mine.  “How long have you and Gabe been together? Almost 5 years now?” I ask him.

“Just about 5 years, yeah. He is a pain in my ass but, I love him so much.” He smiles fondly and it’s apparent that he is missing Gabe way more than he is letting on.

“So, when is Gabe back home?”

“9 days, 5 hours, and 14 minutes.” He says looking at his phone for reference. “Not that I am counting or anything!” He laughs and rolls his eyes.

“I miss Gabe.” I confess. “I want you both to come back and visit as soon as you can. I haven’t seen much of anyone in the past year. I am so glad you called today, man. I was having a really hard time today and seeing you made it so much better, I miss having my friends around.”

“So, you’ve just been hiding out for the past year? Just you and the guys? How did no one notice? ” Bilvy looks at me over the top of his sunglasses.

“Yeah, pretty much. I mean, I don’t really know, everyone just assumed we were constantly in the studio, I suppose. Spencer and I are fixing our trust issues. I screwed up pretty badly with him but, we’re working on it. Hell, Brendon found us cuddling this morning. I don’t even know how to explain it to you.” I say as I start to laugh loudly.

“Why explain? Everyone knows that the members of Panic are close... some say _really_ close.” He winks at me and I smile widely. I miss being able to laugh at stupid shit with one of my best friends.

“They have no idea, Bilvy. Although, I’ve heard some stories about you and Gabe that would probably make you blush.”

“Shit, Dall. You know those are all true! In fact, _I_ write half the shit on the internet about us…”

“I fucking knew it!”  I say as I point to him accusingly. “That’s the best shit I’ve _read_ on the internet.” I smile at him and he and I laugh until there are tears streaming down our faces. Just as I catch my breath, I hear the patio door behind me open and Brendon is soon joining us.

“So, what’s so funny?” He asks. “I could hear you laughing all the way inside!”

Bilvy looks at me and we both say “Nothing.” At the exact same time which results in even more laughter.

“I see…” Brendon says incredulously. “I don’t even care, I just love hearing you laugh, Dall.”

“Me too.” Bilvy chimes in. “Hey Bren, Gabe will be home in a week or so, I was thinking he and I could come back out to visit if you don’t mind?”

“Hell yeah! We love you guys, you know that! Just let us know the details and we’ll figure it out.” He smiles and takes my hand in his and William looks at us with the sweetest half smile.

“I am so happy for the both of you.” William says, “I am glad you two found each other. I don’t think there is anyone else in the world that could go through everything you have and still be so in love. It’s rare, cherish it.”

“I do. There are so many times that I stop and have to catch my breath because the thought of being able to spend my life with Brendon it just tilts my world a bit; my knight in shining armor.” I grin and Brendon squeezes my hand a little, it’s comforting.

“Ugh. You two might even be more adorable than Gabe and I and I don’t even know how that is possible! We better step our game up! Man, he is going to be so excited to come see you guys.”

Brendon laughs and says “Well, I mean we are pretty damn cute together, that’s for sure! I hope you can come out sooner rather than later. I think the guys would be interested in seeing you two as well. We could probably do a barbeque or something here at the house.”

“When I get back I will talk to Gabe and we’ll set up a date.”  Bilvy turns and looks at me. “Things seem to be looking up, eh Dall?”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Williams visit leaves a few more emotions swirling around than either of them were prepared for. Brendon starts to realize the impact the past year has had in his music and Dallon makes a decision that Brendon is not supportive of...

William left shortly after 8 and Brendon and I sat on the back patio long after the sun began to set. He never asked me if I _actually_ told Bilvy about everything that has happened but, I get the feeling he figured it out from the way they hugged as Bilvy was leaving. I know in my mind that I did the right thing but, I can’t help but feel as if I probably should have continued to keep it to myself. Usually in our lives, especially if we’re out on tour, the less anyone knows about your personal life, the better.

“Hey, Bren?”

“Yeah, love. What’s up?” He turns to look at me and suddenly I feel nervous.

“I told Bilvy everything. All of it.” My heart is beating out of my chest but, I know it’s alright. There is nothing to be anxious about.

“You did? All of it? That’s awesome, babe. I am proud of you. He is a good friend to you, Dall. He won’t tell anyone. What did he say?” 

“He said he wished that he had known so he maybe could have helped. I doubt he could have but, it got me thinking about how much I really shut everyone out of my life in the past year or so. I feel pretty badly about it actually. It’s a wonder I even have any friends left.” I look at him and he cocks one eyebrow up and chuckles to himself.

“Baby, of course you have friends. In the lives we lead- in the music business- it’s not uncommon to go a long time without seeing them.  Tours are always off sync, you’re on the other side of the world one day and back home the next, or in the studio; everyone understands. We are pretty lucky in that sense I guess. “

“Yeah, I suppose. I just feel bad that I have this side of me that I hide from people and it’s getting harder to do that, ya know? I feel like people are going to catch on eventually so, maybe I should just come clean?” My eyes drop back down and I stare at the deck waiting for some sort of answer from Brendon. It feels like several minutes pass before he says anything.

“I will support you in whatever you want to do. You have to remember though, if you make this public, you can’t take it back. Make sure this is something that you really want to do and we’ll figure out how to make it happen. It has to be controlled and it has to be on your terms. Okay?” He brushes his fingers through my hair and his hand grazes my cheek.

“Okay. I don’t want to do it tomorrow or anything but, after the record, before next tour. People will see my scars when we start to tour again. I want to be the one to talk about it; not be the one talked about.”  My stomach flips a little at the thought of touring again. The last tour was such a mess for me mentally and I know Zack is going to be up my ass every second. I try to push the thought out of my head; I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it I suppose.

“I think that is a good enough reason. That’s a smart idea, Mr. Weekes.” He kisses my forehead and I lay my head on his shoulder. He’s humming something quietly, nothing familiar but it sounds nice. We sit for a few more minutes, the quiet of the evening sinking slowly into my overactive brain but even in the light of my new found sort of confidence; something is still weighing heavily on my mind.

“Bren, do you think I screwed my life up?” I ask, my voice unintentionally whispering.

“No. I think everyone is entitled to second chances. I am just glad you are around to have one.” He slides his arm around me and pulls me close and I notice after a moment that my shoulder feels wet. I turn sideways and look at him. His face is half hidden by the dark but, I can tell he is crying.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing, Dall. Just thinking about what William said to me as he was leaving. He thanked me for being there for you. He thanked me for saving your life and I never really had enough time to think about it like that. It scared me to think that if I was an hour later or a few hours later what could have happened. It’s scary, Dall.” His voice breaks and he wipes his nose with the back of his hand. I pull his face close to me wiping away his tears with my thumbs and rest my forehead against his. His arms circle around me and pull me into a tight hug.

“Bren, you’re shaking.”

“I’m fine, Dall. It’s fine.” He isn’t even trying to be convincing. The sound of his voice is breaking my heart.

“You aren’t fine, Brendon! You are upset and shaking, and a _year plus_ of therapy tells me that something is wrong so, tell me what is going on in your head. Please?”

His quiet sobs are gently shaking me as he pulls me in even closer and buries his head in my neck. It takes him a minute but he finally starts to speak.

“I’m alright; it just really hit me all at once. I guess I never really processed all of this. I’ve kind of been pushing it aside because I didn’t want to _deal_ with my feelings but, I suppose it’s time. I want to put some of this emotion into the record, Dall. That’s what I was trying to do tonight. The song that Spence and I are working on, I am trying to find my emotions in it and I think I found them. I feel like this record is going to be a catharsis for all of us, you know?”

I nod and he sniffles in my ear. I bring my hand around to wipe the tears away once again.

“Bren, I want this to be a record that you-that _we_ are proud of. I do not however, want you to keep holding everything in because you think I can’t handle it emotionally. I am better than I was; better than I have been in a long time. Whatever you need to do to get your words across is up to you but, include me, please? Being a part of this process, immersed in everything we need to do to get this record on the shelf, I need to be a part of that more than anything. I know I wasn’t a great help in the studio the last time but, I desperately am trying to get back to where I was and if I knew how the hell to get back to an emotionally stable version of myself, I would do it in a heartbeat. But, please don’t think I can’t do this. I want this so badly. Not just for me, for all of us.”

He kisses my forehead and leans back; the glow of the porch light barely illuminating his face.

“Dall, I know all of that and I swear I am not trying to purposefully not include you, I want you to do this at your own pace. I know you will jump in where you feel comfortable and it’s the same as before; the album isn’t officially finished until we have all approved it.  I know you will being doing amazing things on this record; we have all the time in the world for that to happen.”

I nod silently; his words resonating loud and clear in my jumbled mind. “It’s going to be an incredible album, Bren. I know it.”

I sigh and close my eyes for a minute. My thoughts are all over the place right now but, one thing is clear in my mind. While Bilvy and I were talking I realized that I have been dependent on medication for almost the last year and it’s not doing shit for me creatively. Brendon is sitting here telling me about putting emotion into our album and I have a hard time finding my emotions at all anymore. I know it’s going to piss him off but, I figure now is just as good as time as any to let Brendon know about my decision.

“Babe, if I decided I wanted to do something, you would back me up 100% right?"  I glance over in his general direction and I can literally see him take a deep breath before he answers me.

"Uh, yea, I suppose I would... it depends though, I guess. What is it?"

"I want to stop taking my meds. Like all of them I-" I start to say but he interrupts me.

"Not going to happen, Dall. You already promised your therapist and me that you would stick it out until they found something that worked for the long term."

"I just don't feel creative like I did before, B. Honestly; I can be okay without them."

_I have no clue if I will be or not but, anything is better than how it makes me feel to be on them._

"You have an appointment with your therapist Friday morning; we can talk to her about it then. Okay?" he tells me.

"She's going to say no, Bren. She always says no."

"And there is a very good reason for it, Dall. Do you _not_ remember what happened? I can recant the events to you if you’d like but, I can’t guarantee I won’t cry. Look, I know the meds don't fix everything but, it helps you. I've seen it _firsthand_ help you. You can't debate that fact." he says sternly.

“I am going to ask her on Friday then. It’s been a year since all of this happened and I am sick of paying a penance for it! It’s ridiculous that I can’t make this decision for _myself_.” I tell him with more than a slight annoyance in my voice.

He takes a deep breath and looks at me, “Okay, okay. Listen, we’ll talk to her then. Maybe she can wean you off of _something_ but, you and I both know that it’s _not_ going to be cold turkey. She’s not just going to magically tell you that you are fixed and that you can stop taking your meds. If you stop taking them suddenly, you are going to be worse than before. Can we at least agree on that- no stopping anything outright? I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, Dallon.” He has the most sincere look in his eyes and I almost feel guilty for bringing this up now.

“Yes, Bren. I promise I won’t just stop them. Besides, you give them to me and watch me take them every damn day.” I say with a slight smile.

_I just want to not feel so foggy all the time. I want to feel normal again, whatever that felt like._

“I do that every day because if I lost you because I didn’t, I would never ever forgive myself, Dall.”

He looks at me and I nod because what else can I do? Up until now, I have done everything Brendon has asked of me regarding my moods and meds and whatever but, I really want this.

“I’m sorry I ever did it, Bren. You believe me, right?”

“I know you are sorry and if it was as easy as you making an apology to me or Spence or even yourself, I would be all for this but, you have a _chemical imbalance_ that needs to be treated with medication until it’s under control; it’s not as if you are being forced to take them as some sort of punishment. To be honest, given what happened at the pharmacy this morning, I don’t think you’re there yet. I literally cannot even describe to you how fucking helpless I feel when you breakdown, Dall. Call me selfish, but if your meds are helping even a little, I’ll take that any damn day over seeing you bleeding on a bathroom floor.”

I look at him and stare for a second. I know he wasn’t trying to make me feel like an asshole but, he did and I do.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. That was stupid for me to even say.” Even as the words leave my lips, I know they aren’t true and a little ping of guilt is building in my brain but, it’s better to acquiesce for now. _I_ know that it wasn’t stupid for me to want to be off of meds nor am I sorry for bringing it up but, I don’t want to fight with Brendon tonight. So, I’ll just have to figure it out on my own somehow.

“Dall, that’s not what I meant. I am _not_ trying to make you feel bad, I swear. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself, Okay?” His face softens a little and his lips turn into a slight curl on one side. “Stop calling me an asshole in your head- I know you are.” He laughs loudly.

“I wasn’t, Bren. I know you don’t. I won’t, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too, babe. Come on, let’s go inside I am sure there is something on TV we can watch.” I stand up silently and he pulls me with him into the house. We settle on the couch and as I snuggle into his side, my anxiety starts to ease despite my brain wanting to debate all of this further. After a while, his slow and steady breathing and the sound of his heartbeat start lulling me into a sleepy fog. “I love you, Brendon Urie.” I mumble to him and he laughs softly, “Love you too, Dallon Weekes.”

_I have no idea how long I have been asleep but I very faintly hear Brendon’s voice._

“Hey! Wake up sleepy head, my leg is asleep.” Brendon is shaking me awake and I vaguely remember falling asleep on the couch.

“What time is it?” my voice soft and sleepy. _I wish I were still asleep._

“Just a little after 1am; let’s go upstairs and go to bed, okay?” he nudges me with his elbow and I groan at him hoping he will just let me stay where I am.  “Come on, babe. Up, up.” He pushes me over so I am sitting upright and stands to help me stand. My brain isn’t really computing at this point.

“M’tired, Bren.”

“Yes, I know but we have to go upstairs, to our bedroom. Our bedroom- with the comfy bed and pillows; where we can sleep together and not be squished.” he pulls me up and I collapse against him; his arms locking around my waist.

“I like when we are squished.” I mumble at him.

“Dall, you have to help me here or I am going to drag you up the stairs caveman style.” There is a definite smile in his voice.

“Fine.” His grip on my waist tightens and we walk, albeit slowly, to the stairs and he laughs again.  


“Dall, seriously wake the hell up or you are going to fall down the stairs.” He pinches my side and my eyes fly open.

“What the hell?! Meanie!”

“Look who’s awake! Come on, up to bed.” He is laughing so hard he can barely stand. I make a mental note to get him back when I am fully coherent. He walks us up the stairs and practically throws me onto my side of the bed. I climb under the covers and I can hear him shuffling out of his clothes and putting on his pajamas. “You should take your jeans off. You’re gonna get too hot in them.” He suggests. I get them unbuttoned and the zipper down but, I can’t find it in me to actually take them off.

“I’m fine. Too tired.” I lazily wave my hand towards him as he walks over to my side and helps me slide my jeans the rest of the way off.

“You’d be lost without me. Hot and lost.” He kisses me softly on the forehead and pulls the covers up.

“Yep. So lost, Bren.” I agree and he slides in next to me. I feel his warm chest on my back as he hooks his leg over mine; pulling me in closer and the night’s events wash away as I easily slip back into my sleepy fog.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's no surprise that Dallon can't sleep but, he wasn't expecting a phone call from Bilvy to change his perspective. That's what best friends are for though, right?

When you sleep on a bus for half a year, in multiple time zones- in one week, you learn to live without a normal sleep regimen-it just comes with the territory. However, if you also have a brain that never seems to stop, it tends to be really hard to sleep at all. This morning, I am up at 4:45am. Wide awake, brain racing as I quietly slip out of our bedroom.

Typically, I am on full throttle until my brain exhausts itself. It happens at the shittiest times but, Brendon has learned to understand that it’s something I _really_ can’t control unless I heavily medicate myself-which has had to happen a few times. The other side of this is that I hardly sleep more than 4 hours or so at a time when I do finally give into exhaustion. So, it’s not any surprise to him when he wakes up and I am not in bed any longer.

In the beginning, before we were actually “together”, it would freak him out. He would get up and walk past my room and almost panic that I wasn’t asleep in my bed. He would race around the house and inevitably find me doing something to distract myself. He would then flip me off and go back to bed. As time went on though, and our relationship bloomed, he slowly started to accept it and panic a little less. I used to leave him little sticky notes on his phone so that when he checked the time, he knew I was ok. Now, I just try to stay in a central location so he doesn’t have to search the whole house for me at 7 in the morning. It makes him feel better and I can at least afford that to him for all the shit I have put him through.

I usually find myself messing around in the music room until he wakes up and stumbles downstairs to see what I am getting myself into but today, I don’t feel very creative. I instead throw myself onto the couch in the living room and switch the TV on hoping that some stupid show will bore me enough to fall asleep again. Spending 45 minutes flipping through every station and finding nothing that holds my interest, I decide to text Bilvy to make sure he got back ok. I set my phone down on the arm of the couch and start to flip through the channels again when my phone chimes. It’s so early, that I wasn’t expecting him to text back and now I am going to feel like an asshole if I woke him up.

**From Bilvy:** _Got back fine. Gabe sends his love. Can’t sleep?_

Before I can even text him back, my phone rings; of course it’s Mr. Beckett himself.

“Hi Bilvy, sorry I woke you up.”

He laughs, “You didn’t wake me up. I just got off video chat with Gabe when you text me. With the time change it’s the easiest time to talk to him without his whole family in the background asking when we are getting married. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just couldn’t sleep anymore. My brain is all sorts of fuzzy, racing thoughts again, ya know?” I sigh and curl up a little more on the couch; phone perched between my shoulder and chin. Bilvy and I used to spend many nights on the phone talking each other through whatever was bothering us. It’s comforting to hear his voice before the sun is up.

“Anything you wanna bounce off of me, dude? I know we had a nice long chat yesterday but, I am all ears.”

“I am an idiot? But, I am sure you already knew that.” I tell him matter-of-factly.

“Still the king of self-deprecation, huh? I have a feeling that isn’t what you were going to say though, am I right?” His voice is lighthearted and safe, I know I can tell him anything and he won’t judge me. I guess I might as well get another opinion on this.

“Well, I told B I wanna stop my meds and he more or less freaked out at first-he doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

I can hear him take a deep breath and then he says, “I see. But, knowing Brendon though, I am sure he told you why he feels that way, right? I mean, he’s not one to be rendered speechless on a regular basis. I’m kidding-kind of. Look Dall, He loves you so much; he just wants to make sure you are alright.”

“And I know that! I _know_ he loves me and I do see his point but, I feel so fucking terrible on them. My creativity sucks. I can’t come up with anything to contribute to this album and I feel like a paranoid zombie half of the time. I literally feel like I have no control over my own life and I can’t handle that.”

“Ok. First, slow the fuck down. Second, are you cutting again?” his voice lowering to a more serious tone.

“Not yet- I mean no. No! I haven’t. Why?”

“Why? Because I love you and you are my best friend, that’s why. Also, I remember having a conversation very close to this one a few years ago when you told me you felt like you had no control in your life.”

I sigh.

“I promise I am not doing anything stupid. I just feel like sometimes he doesn’t get it. I feel so out of place and he literally doesn’t understand how those meds make me feel. He’s never had to deal with this shit himself and I can’t find a way to put it into perspective so that he will see it my way.”

“Okay, that’s a good place to start. Dall, do you remember when you and I first met?”

“Of course I do, Bilvy. How could I ever forget that? It was before a TAI show. You were sitting on that nasty green couch in the back corner behind the stage-”

“Yes! Remember that I was having a panic attack and you sat and talked with me, told me to breathe, and assured me it was going to be alright?  It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me and from that day on we’ve been best friends, right?”

“Right? I don’t get where this is going though…”

“You reached over and hugged me and I saw the cuts on the top of your hip but, I didn’t call you out on it. A few nights later though, you pulled me aside and asked me how long I had been bulimic for and figured ‘fuck it’ and  I asked you how long you had been cutting for; you about shit yourself because someone found out.”

“Yes, unfortunately, I remember. Again, where is this going?”

He makes a frustrated groan and it makes me grin. “Dude, fuck you! I will make my point when I am good and ready!” He laughs and then asks, “Were you pissed at me back then because someone cared or because you got caught?”

“I wasn’t pissed; I was embarrassed and yes, because I got caught. I was glad that you cared, just like I cared about you, Bilvy.”

“Same here. I was upset with you because you busted me but, I was so happy that someone actually cared enough to do it. Even though neither of us wanted to admit it back then, it was so much easier to tell you what was going on with me because I knew you were going through some pretty heavy shit and you weren’t going to judge me. It didn’t matter that it was two different things, everyone has shit they are going through, we both needed each other to help us through it though.”

“I would never judge anyone who has anything going on in their life. It’s _hard enough_ to just get through life without having a huge roadblock to get over too. I think I may be missing your point though.” I confess quietly, its William Beckett though so, I know he is going to blow me away with his wisdom in about 3 seconds.

“My point is that everyone deals with things differently but, an outsider’s perspective is sometimes what we _need_ to actually see ourselves. Having Brendon as someone who not only cares about you but _loves_ you no matter what kind of shit you have gotten yourself into, is a pretty good deal. I am in no way trying to guilt you into feeling like you are wrong in thinking you should stop your meds I am however,  asking you to try to see it from his perspective. When I was practically killing myself by forcing myself to throw up because I felt like I wasn’t good enough; you were the one that made me realize that it wasn’t what everyone else saw that mattered. Yes, it took a while and a shit ton of therapy to realize that but, eventually I _did_ see it that way and you were the one that told me that from the beginning. When you were stuck in a really dark place and I felt like I was in over my head, you trusted me enough to help you find a therapist and you went because you trusted me-“

“I know what you’re getting at Bilvy. I get it. Brendon loves me- I know this and of course I trust him, I just feel like a year later, I should be able to do this on my own for a while. What else do I need to do to prove to everyone that I can make this decision? I just feel lost, that’s all.”

The phone is silent for a few seconds and for a moment I think we lost connection until he says “Dallon, you are the only one that is going to let yourself make those decisions. When you hurt yourself, even though he will never admit to it, a lot of trust was lost and all of this overprotective bullshit is really him helping you rebuild that trust. If you really wanted him to stop helping you, you would have resisted help a long time ago but we _both_ know deep down that you aren’t _really_ okayenough to give that kind of control over yourself a second chance yet. Tell me if I am wrong.”

_Why are my friends the ones that are all philosophical and right all the damn time?_

“William Beckett, you are _not_ wrong and you know it. Maybe I can figure out a way to earn his trust back a little at a time?”

“And welcome to the conversation, Mr. Weekes!” He laughs and I know he is rolling his eyes at me even if I can’t see him.

“Oh fuck you, Beckett! You know it’s- shit it’s almost 6am! Dude, why are you still awake?” I make a mental note to send him flowers for being such a stubborn and loveable best friend.

“I am awake because your existential crisis needed me and I miss Gabe a whole fucking lot. It’s hard to sleep without his giant body star-fished all over our bed.” He gives a tired chuckle and I can hear in his voice how much he misses Gabe.

“Well, lucky for you my crisis has been averted for now and your boyfriend will be home in only 8 days. Did you tell him we want you guys to come visit?” 

“Oh my god, I thought he was going to jump through the computer screen. He is so fucking excited! I am thinking maybe as soon as he gets back we can just hop on a flight down? It would be nice for him to hang with his friends for a while. He really misses all of you.”

“Yes! That would be awesome! I am sure Brendon and the guys will be all for it. Hey, Bilvy?”

“Yea, Dall?”

“Thank you for being my perspective and my best friend. I really don’t deserve you, dude.” My voice cracks just a little at the end of my thought. It makes me just a bit emotional that I have more than one person in my life that always has my back.

“No, Mr. Weekes, thank you for being mine! I’ll always be here for you- _Gabe and I both_ , you know that. We both love you very much. Now, go get a little bit of sleep and I will text you later, okay? I wanna know how your talk with B goes.”

“Alright, talk to you later. Bye, Bilvy.”

“Bye, Dall.”

I end the call and place my phone back on the arm of the couch. The sun is starting to come up now and damn Bilvy for being right about all of this! I still have that selfish feeling though; I need to do this for myself. I just hope that Brendon see’s it my way too. I slide down the couch a bit and curl up again. Just as I am pulling the throw blanket down from the back of the couch to cover myself with, I hear a sleepy Brendon shuffling down the stairs.

_Shit, I was probably talking too loud and woke him up._

“Dall, are you up? I could have sworn I heard you talking.” He rounds the corner and stands a few paces from the end of the couch and yawns. His hair is a mess and his pajama pants are so big they are hanging off of his hips in a threat to fall down. He looks really cute like this.

“Yea, B. Sorry. Come here and lay with me?”

“Okay. Scoot over, babe.” He really does have the most adorable sleepy voice. I hold the covers up and he crawls onto the couch behind me with his head now resting on my shoulder. He pulls me tight against him as I adjust the blanket.

“Who were you talking to?”

“Bilvy. He couldn’t sleep and he misses Gabe.” I tell him, it’s not a lie it’s just not the main reason of our conversation.

All I hear is a muffled “Oh, okay.” and he is asleep again. I smile to myself and allow my eyes to slip shut for a few minutes. I am still nowhere near tired but, it’s too early to talk about this _and_ we have to be at the studio at 10 am. I am sure it will come up in conversation at some point today because of course Bilvy is right; there is a lot of trust that needs to be rebuilt. Right now though, right now I just wanna lay here and listen to the love of my life sleep soundly for a little while before I figure out how I am going to do that exactly.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Dallon's chat with William, he seems to understand how Brendon might be feeling after all... Brendon gets hit by a musical epiphany and they may actually have a song... finally...

I give up at 7:30 and wake Brendon up. There is absolutely no use pretending I might fall back asleep and more importantly, he is drooling on my chest and I have to pee; It’s pretty much a lose-lose situation. He points and then laughs at the wet spot on my shirt that he left and I smack him on the ass as he makes his way into the kitchen. By the time I finish and saunter into the kitchen to find him, my pills and a glass of orange juice await me on the breakfast bar- _just like every other morning._ I groan and take them.

“I’m a big boy Brendon; I can take them by myself every morning. I tell you that _every day_.” I cock my head to the side and look at him; almost like a dare. He isn't into playing fair though-well, he thinks he is. As he turns to get a coffee mug from the cupboard he says “I am aware of that _however_ , after last night’s conversation, and even though you promised you wouldn't stop cold turkey, I’d feel better doing it this way until we talk to your therapist tomorrow. Is that cool?” He makes sure that his eyes meet mine and that I am aware of how his stare is meant to bore directly into my soul.

_He’s such a little shit._

Honestly though, I wasn't expecting that. What I _was_ expecting was a semi-snarky comment being that it’s so early in the morning.

“Yeah, that’s cool.” My surrender is mostly under duress but, I am really just playing devil’s advocate at this point. It’s a studio day and we have a lot of things that need to be finished in the next few weeks. We haven’t been back into the studio since I had a little meltdown and bitched at Spencer the other day. Spence and I are good terms of course but, I know it’s in the back of Brendon’s mind that something else could happen. I can tell by the way he is standing at the counter eyeing me thoughtfully. He picks his battles carefully in the mornings anyways but it seems as if he is erring on the side of overly cautious today.

“Did you get any sleep last night, babe?” He is biting his bottom lip, a telltale sign that he is anxious.

“Yeah, I got up at 4:45ish and talked to Bilvy for a little over an hour. I was trying to be quiet, sorry if I woke you up.”

I walk over to him and pull him into me. My hands exploring the soft spot above his hips as he places a few soft kisses near the corner of my mouth.

“Nope. I didn't hear you until I got up to go to the bathroom. I came downstairs to bring you back to bed but you looked more comfy to sleep on.” He teases. “I was right too!” 

My hand slides slowly from his hip to the small of his back and his hip meets mine as I push him back toward the counter.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Weekes? Your powers are useless against me."  He looks mildly amused and breathes out a small laugh.

 

"I would never!” My mouth meets his for an almost desperate kiss and I nip playfully at his bottom lip. I know what is bothering him. Even if he is trying to play it cool, he is just as transparent about some things as I am.

“Hey, B? Look at me?” He looks up at me through his lashes and takes a deep breath, “I am good, I promise I won't be bitchy to anyone today. Everything is going to be just fine, please stop worrying?"

His smile slowly fades and his gaze drifts downward towards the tile floor, "I am not worrying. I am just nervous about this song we're writing. I just want everything to be so perfect and I know that it's not going to be. I don't think I am ever going to get this right."

"It doesn't have to be perfect, Bren. You just have to be proud of it. You need to stop being so caught up in what you think the fans are going to like and start making it for you-for us. Write a song you are proud of, okay?"

He nods, resting his forehead on my shoulder and I draw him in even closer for a hug. I forget sometimes that other people get anxious and nervous too. It’s like seeing a zoo animal walking down the middle of Fremont; completely out of their element and I know I shouldn't stare but, you do anyways. I still find it pretty odd that he is so nervous about this though.  He is usually so calm and collected-seeing him so vulnerable makes me feel even more like an asshole about everything. 

“I promise you everything will be alright. I know you have spent the last year focusing on me and my recovery; now it’s time for us to focus our energy on this album. We knew from the beginning that it was going to be a pain in the ass but, I know we can do this, Bren. We've got the material to make an amazing album; there is no reason to wait any longer, right?”

“Since when did you turn all “album guru”?”

“Since my boyfriend pointed out to me that there are a lot of emotions that still haven’t been dealt with. It just makes sense to devote all this neurosis and negativity to a positive cause; _and_ because we all need this to feel whole again. Don’t you feel like something has been missing?”

“Not missing really but, I know what you mean.” His voice trails off and his eyes go wide as if he just had an epiphany. “Fuck! I’ve got it, I fucking got it!”

“Got what, Bren?” I must look as confused as I sound because he gives me a rueful look and tries to explain.

“The melody for the song Spencer and I were working on! Call Spencer and tell him to get his ass to the studio right now. I need to record this today! I’m gonna get this down on my computer before I lose it. I love you!” He kisses me quickly and practically sprints to the music room and shuts the door. His enthusiasm is contagious and I run up the stairs to grab my phone. I find Spencer’s name and press dial.

“Hey, Dallon. What’s going on?”

“My boyfriend is summoning you to the studio ASAP. He told me to tell you he has the melody for the song you two are working on; he’s in the music room recording right now.”

“Fuck yes! Dude, I may love your boyfriend more than you do! Sorry, you may have to share!” he is laughing and I can hear how relieved he sounds. I haven’t heard Spencer so happy in so long it almost brings tears to my eyes.

“You had him first, it’s really only fair.” I tell him, “Meet you at the studio in an hour?”

“We’ll be there! Dallon, you have no idea how long Brendon has been trying to figure this out, it means so much to him. This is an awesome day!”

“I think I just realized how much it means, see you soon. Bye, Spence!”

“Bye, Dall.”

I hang up the phone and suddenly something clicks in my brain. Brendon has been driving himself crazy over this song. This song that he said was a “love song” and he needed it to be “perfect”. I think back to the notes in Spencer’s notebook: “Fixation or psychosis, we’re far too young to die”.  I am not the brightest sometimes and I know it but, if this was a cartoon, a fucking light bulb would be above my head right now. It’s been such a hard song for him to write because it is literally his catharsis. He has never had such a hard time writing any sort of song, he is a musical genius; notes and chords normally pour out of him effortlessly. This though, this is the song that he thinks is going to make or break the album and it’s about me- it’s about us. That is why he is being so neurotic about all of it. It all makes sense now.

My heart beats a little faster as I get dressed and make my way back down stairs. The music room door is opened slightly so I peek my head in and see Brendon working away on his computer; he is grinning from ear to ear and I can't help but chuckle out loud, he looks so cute.

“I talked to Spence, he’s gonna meet us there in about 40 minutes. Were you able to get the melody recorded?” He nods and looks up at me. His eyes are so wide and bright, it’s like a weight was lifted from him.

“Yeah, I’m good. I just finished.” He is biting his lip and then motions to me to come to him.

I walk across the room and his hands guide my hips so that I am sitting on his lap. “I am so fucking proud of you, B -and Spencer sounded so happy on the phone. I know this song means a lot to you and I know it is going to do so well on the album.”

“This song means the fucking world to me. I hope you and Kenny fall in love with it as much as Spencer and I have.”

“I love everything you do, Babe. This album could be 60 minutes of you singing the ABC’s and I would love it. I am your _biggest_ fan, Mr. Urie.” He laughs as I lean in for a kiss while he tugs me into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around my midsection. I always feel so safe in his arms.

“Dallon, thank you for allowing me to write this song semi-secretly, I was trying to do it without making you feel like I wasn't including you but, I wanted it to be perfect.”

“I understand, B. I promise. The sentiment is not lost on me. Now, go get dressed so we can get to the studio. Spencer should be there in about half hour.”

I stand and pull him up with me; his hand in mine as we make our way towards the door of the music room.  He stops just short of the threshold and spins me around so that we are facing each other.  His hand is gracefully sliding to the back of my neck as his lips begin to crush against mine. He deepens the kiss and makes a quiet groaning noise as his hips begin to grind against my own.

Our lips part and he whispers into my ear, “You are so fucking perfect, Dall. I wish you could see that.”

“Ditto.” I whisper back, “If you only knew.”

We eventually make our way to the living room and we part ways so he can get dressed as I find the car keys and pack up his computer and acoustic guitar.

“Come on, Bren. We have to leave.” I yell up the stairs. He emerges minutes later carrying a notebook and his phone. “You ready, B?”

“Yeah. Dallon, this is the first time I have felt like we are really making a record. I feel like everything else is just going to fall into place, ya know?”

“I think I know exactly what you mean, love.”

Spencer is practically bouncing from one foot to the other when we arrive at the studio. He and Brendon exchange these all-knowing grins and they high five like they just won the Stanley Cup or something. It’s kind of cute to be honest. Seeing them so motivated to get something finished is enough to make my anxiety ease and almost fade away completely.

“Is this still a secret song? Because I’m not sure how I am going to record the bass lines without knowing what they are.” I muse to the giggle twins themselves. They both look at me with an ‘oh shit’ look on their faces and burst into laughter.

“I am so glad I amuse you two so much. Answer my question?” I eye Brendon and he visibly sighs.

“Well, I guess the cat is out of the bag now. Spence, you wanna go over the lyrics with Dallon while Kenny and I work on the guitar parts?”

Brendon still has that goofy grin on his face and I am fighting the urge to want to pull him off the stool he is perching on and fuck his brains out in the empty room down the hall.

“Sure, B. Dall?” I wink at Brendon and follow Spencer to the table by the door. He sits down in the chair and pulls out the notebook he was scribbling in the other day. My stomach does a flip but I suppress my anxiety as much as I can.

“Brendon wrote most of it but I added a few lines and some of the chorus. Brendon was worried that you might be upset that it was about you but I told him that no one is going to know that besides us. If there is anything you think is too telling, just let him know and we can figure something out. I think he would kill me if he knew I told you this but, he started writing this over a year ago. Before- well, before you two were officially together. The only thing he had was the first verse and it sat in his notebook for 6 months before he even mentioned it to me.”

My mouth goes dry as Spencer slides the notebook towards me; the lyrics hastily strewn about the page in true writer’s fashion. He points to the first verse and then looks at me and nods. My eyes drop to the page and I read the first line “I’ve never so adored you, I'm twisting allegories now”. I read the rest of the page and can’t help but tear up just a bit. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and Spencer taps my arm with his hand.

“Hey, Dall are you alright?” His eyes look to mine searching for some sort of answer and I take a minute to compose myself.

“Yeah, I'm good, honest. It’s perfect, Spencer. It’s so perfect!”

He squeezes my arm and smiles wryly “He said you would say that.”

“He knows me better than I know myself. It just makes sense.” I tell him honestly. We both get up from the table and I cross the room with Spencer to see what the guys are doing. Brendon’s standing next to Kenny in front of one of the music stands as I approach him; he has a nervous look in his eyes but, I think deep down he knows what I am going to say.

“Brendon Urie, I love you more than words can ever express. It is so perfect, so perfect, Bren.”I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him hard prompting teasing protests from both Kenny and Spencer. I lazily wave my hand in their direction and flip them off. They aren't going to ruin this moment for me.  I gently pull away from his lips and he whispers into my ear almost breathlessly, “I love you so much, Dallon; so, so much.”

I can’t contain my smile as he and I fall back into reality and Spencer and Kenny are doing everything they can to pretend they aren't in the same room right now. Spencer speaks up as we both laugh, “Let’s- um, if we can get this guitar part figured out we can probably get this mostly tracked today. Sound good?”

“Sounds great!” Brendon is positively glowing he is so happy. I look at Kenny and he smirks and just shakes his head. “Let’s do this, guys!”

 

 

****

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer is breaking drumsticks, Brendon's horny, and Dallon is having an awesome day in the studio. One thing has been weighing on his mind though and that is having to talk to Zack... (aka what fun is recording if you can't sneak off to an empty office with your boyfriend?)

We're in between takes on tracking the percussion parts and Spencer is getting increasingly pissed because he broke yet _another_ drumstick; I can't even understand how he keeps doing it.

“Spence, seriously, you don’t have to go hard as fuck on this track. Just take a deep breath and start again. Be _nice_ to your drums.” Brendon’s pep talk and smug smirk earns him two middle fingers from Spencer in the isolation booth as he steps back into the control room where Kenny and I are waiting.

Brendon has an ear for music that is beyond what most of us can even comprehend. He integrates himself into every aspect of the albums. From composing to writing to recording; he knows what everything should sound like and if what we track doesn't sound like what he envisioned, we will do it again until it does.

In the earlier days, it would prove problematic between the four of us when one long day in the studio turned into another and another, because Brendon wasn't happy. Cue the arguments and hurt feelings that would make it impossible to finish out a day without _someone_ being pissed at the other. That is until the day Spencer, Kenny, and I came to the decision that Brendon really _does_ know what is best for the sound of the band. We all agreed that while we can have artistic license and input on the songs, it was Brendon who would get final say on the arrangements. It was quite possibly the best decision we have made as a band. This is Brendon’s heaven; surrounded by equipment and instruments. He is completely in his zone here and I find it pretty fucking hot to be honest.

Waiting for instructions from B, my mind wanders and I start daydreaming about taking him down the hall to fuck him when my phone rings and jostles me back to reality.

Brendon looks at me and I mouth “Bilvy” to him. He nods and takes a seat to wait for Spencer to start again. 

“Hey, Beckett. Hold on, gimme a second, Okay?”  I say as I quietly slip out of the room and into the hallway so I don’t disturb anyone.  “Ok, sorry. I was in the control room and I didn't want to piss anyone off. What’s up?”

“Shit, sorry! I forgot you were in the studio today. You want me to call back later?” He asks empathetically.

“Nah” I say laughing, “Spencer is beating the shit out of his kit and Brendon is really amused by it so, I've got some time.”

“I see. So, everything is pretty normal then? Did you and B talk yet?”

I don’t know how he does it but, he can go from jovial to serious in about a millisecond. I cringe slightly because I knew he was going to ask about it but, at least I can be honest with him that it just hasn’t been a good time yet today.

“Not yet. Brendon was struck by some sort of musical epiphany this morning and we actually got here an hour earlier than scheduled. We may even have a song completely tracked today.” I can’t help but notice the pride in my voice.

We might actually have a song completed! 

“Well, that’s forgivable! Shit, really? Was it the song that Brendon was working on yesterday?”  He asks.

“How do you just _know_ these things?!  Yes, he has been working on it with Spencer for a while. Actually, Spencer told me that B’s been writing it for over a year now; It’s pretty amazing to be honest. I can't wait for you to hear it.”

“I _know_ these things because I pay attention to details, it’s part of my charm. He’s been writing it for a year? Wait, let me guess; it’s a love song isn't it?”

“Of course it’s a fucking love song, Bilvy! This is Brendon Urie we are talking about though so, it’s a love song to him and I and probably a little confusing for other people to see it that way.” I laugh, “It really _is_ perfect though. Hopefully we will have a copy of it when you and Gabe come out so you can listen to it. You know Brendon is a sucker for feedback on his music.” 

“That would be awesome! I’ll let you get back. Let me know how it goes. Tell everyone I said Hi and that we are looking forward to seeing everyone soon, Okay?”

“I will. Bye, Bilvy”

“Bye, Mr. Weekes.”

I hang up the phone and take a minute to process everything that has happened in the last 24 hours. I finally got to tell my best friend why I have been MIA for almost a year, Bren and I had a really serious breakthrough about everything that has been going on, and now we are in the studio recording an _actual_ song. It’s crazy how random life is sometimes. I shake my head slowly and walk back into the control room. It’s only Spencer sitting there when I step in and I give him a look as if to ask where the boys went.

“They are working out the guitar part. Also, fun fact: I think I may have broken my own record for ‘Most Drumsticks destroyed in a single day’.” He looks at me and laughs loudly throwing his head back until he is almost out of breath. It’s so nice to hear him laugh.

I laugh too as I take a seat on the couch next to him and he puts his arm around me in a sort of half hug. It’s something that is comforting in the simplest of ways.

“Guess what?” I say to him enthusiastically.

“Aliens have come down to earth to help Brendon finish this track? Please say yes; I am running out of drumsticks.”

“He wishes- no. I just got off the phone with William. He and Gabe are coming to visit in the next week or so.”

“Really? Man, I miss the both of them so much! That is fucking awesome news!”  Spencer’s smile is infectious. A wide toothy grin that just makes the blue in his eyes sparkle even more. 

“Yep! He was here yesterday, actually. Gabe is visiting family and William had some business thing so he stopped by the house for a bit. I haven’t seen him in almost a year; we had a lot to talk about.” I think he can tell by the tone of my voice what exactly we talked about but, I know he is going to ask.

“Yea? Did you –um- does he know?” His voice goes a little quiet but his words still resonate loudly in the small room.  He turns more on the couch so that he is facing me and looks me in the eyes.

“I did. I- I told him everything. He…uh…he wasn't happy but, he understood and he forgave me for not telling him sooner.”

Spencer’s hand pats my knee and he says “Dallon, I am proud of you for talking about it. I know how hard it has been for you because you didn't want anyone to know. Even though it’s William and you know he won't say anything, it’s a big step. That is progress, dude! I really am proud of you.”

“It _was_ really hard but, I felt like it wasn't fair that he didn’t know. I basically disappeared for an entire year; I’m surprised he even wants me in his life anymore. I had a talk with Brendon yesterday too. After the album is completed, I am going to go public with it. I know once we start doing press and touring again that people- the fans, they will see my scars and there will be so much speculation. I don’t want it to get completely out of hand like everything else does, ya know?”

He doesn't say anything at first but instead silently nods his head a few times. I know he’s thinking of _what_ to say but mostly he is thinking about _how_ to say it. After a bit he finally says “I have your back 100% and so does Kenny and however you want to do this is up to you; just make sure it’s what you really want. People can be pretty brutal, Dallon. Even if you are coming out and doing this as a positive movement, there will always be the people who will root against you. You are like my brother, dude and I will defend you until the end but, I can’t stop articles and the internet from ripping you apart. I do not want you to be hurt by bad press. That’s all I am worried about.”

“Thank you for having my back, I always appreciate it. Brendon and I decided to discuss it more once it gets closer and obviously, I want yours and Kenny’s opinion too. I know I am the one that fucked up but, it’s going to drag all of you into it as well and we’ll have to have a game plan. Speaking of which, I am going to have to talk to Zack at some point, aren't I?”

“We’ll do what we need to do, man. Yeah, Zack would like to talk to you but, I swear that he is scared shitless to talk about it- _don't ever tell him I told you that._ It legitimately _really_ freaked him out, Dall.”

“I need to call him but, I don't really know what to say though. I mean-what _do_ you say, ya know? I screwed up a lot of relationships but, I don't want Zack to think he has to babysit me all the time.”

“Well, let’s be realistic here, you were cutting yourself on tour, you were on medications that you didn’t disclose, and the day we got _home_ from tour you tried to off yourself? Zack didn't know about the first two which makes him feel as if he wasn't doing his job at all. The last one no one knew it was going to happen but maybe if Zack or any of us besides Brendon knew, someone may have seen signs that B didn’t see. It’s all relative but the bottom line is that Zack trusts us to make decisions that aren't going to put ourselves in imminent danger and when we do, _he_ is supposed to be the one that is there to stop us from doing it. He holds a lot of guilt about that. You can talk to him and try to smooth things over but, he is going to be glued to you during the entire tour and during all press. You can’t get pissy about it either.”

_Leave it to Spencer to lay everything on the table and not mince words._

“I have a lot of relationships to fix. He is one that I need to fix sooner rather than later though. While I knew what I was going to do would affect people, I never realized how many people that truly entailed. I’ll probably never get past that guilty feeling but, I am going to try really hard to fix everything, I will call Zack tomorrow after therapy.”

I cringe as I say the word ‘therapy’ and Spencer must have caught that on my face because he questions me.

“What was _that_ look for?”

“What look? I didn't think I did anything.” Maybe if I play it off he’ll just let it go.

“You made a face when you said “therapy”. Is it not going well?” His voice goes from interest to concern.

“Yeah. It’s fine- it’s going fine. Just have some things to discuss with her tomorrow and I am not looking forward to it. That’s all.”

“Does Brendon know?”

Just at that moment, Brendon walks into the control room and looks at the both of us, “Does Brendon know what?”

_I roll my eyes._

“I was telling Spencer that I wasn't looking forward to therapy tomorrow because there is shit I need to discuss with her and I am not sure how it is going to go.”

“Oh, right. Well, we’ll burn that bridge when we come to it now won't we?” He laughs and Spencer looks at him with a confused look. “It’s nothing bad, Spence. We promise. Just figuring out a game plan and it just makes Dallon anxious.”

“Pretty much.” I agree.

“Ah. Ok.” Is all Spencer says.

_I have a feeling he will ask B about it later so I just let it go. If he wants to tell him, I can't stop him._

Brendon walks over to me and takes a seat in my lap.  “Dude, what did Bilvy want, didn’t you just talk to him like 3 hours ago?”

“He misses Gabe and for some reason _likes_ me; what am I supposed to do, hang up on him?” I say incredulously.

“Oh stop it! You know what I meant! Hey, when are they coming out here anyways?” He asks as he squirms into my lap a little more. If I didn't know any better I would swear that he was trying to get me hard.

“Probably next week when Gabe gets back; they both really want to see everyone. Bilvy said Gabe’s really excited.”

Spencer eyes us for a minute and then says, “I think I'm gonna go see what Kenny is up to.” He quickly leaves the control room and Brendon uses that as a catalyst for his foreplay. His hands start to wander down to the button of my jeans.

“You _were_ trying to get me hard! You asshole!”

He laughs loudly and snakes his hand behind my head to pull me in for a kiss.

“I would never do that.” He laughs, “I am a gentleman!”

“Right.  A _total gentleman_ with the libido of a horny teenager, maybe!”

“Well, when you’re right, you’re right.” He says against my neck as he begins to nip gently upwards towards my jawline. His hands slowly moving from my neck down to my sides and I can feel between us how hard he is; which does nothing for the fact that I am just as hard.

“Bren, we can’t do this in here. As much as I would love to, we’ll give Spencer a fucking heart attack. C’mon, let’s go find that empty office.” I say slowly and carefully. The blood in my brain seems to have drifted to other parts of my body and I am having a hard time finding my words. He nods against my shoulder blade and goes in for one more kiss before he is hauling me to my feet and we make our way to the door and down the hall.

The office is small but far away enough from the studios that no one should accidently walk in on us. The best thing about empty offices in a building full of studios is that they are all sound proof. We practically stumble through the door and barely manage close it before he is undoing my pants entirely and palming my erection through my briefs. I let out a small moan and he chuckles quietly as he bites down hard on my collarbone.

“Bren, fuck! We don’t have a lot of time.” I remind him. He makes some sort of noise, that I can only assume, means that he is aware of the time constraint as he drops to his knees in front of me pulling my underwear down with him. I lean back against the desk that sits along the wall of the office; my legs feeling a little unstable as he takes my entire length into his warm, wet mouth.

“Bren, you have to sing, you can’t do that.” I try to tell him as I push his head back a little. He bats my hand away and uses one hand to stroke me while his tongue flicks maddeningly over my slit; his calloused hands sliding faster along my cock as he works up a quick rhythm. I almost come just from the sight of his lips wrapped around my cock. He is so fucking beautiful.

“Bren, I-I’m not going to last long.” I can feel the tension begin to build and grab onto the desk just for a little more support. I moan something that vaguely sounds like his name but, I can’t even be sure at this point. He flicks his wrist and strokes me a few more times before I can barely warn him, “B, Im- Im gonna come.” His mouth stays anchored to me as he swallows everything I have. I pull him back from me and he lets go with a wet obnoxious popping sound. I bend down to kiss him, tasting myself on his lips.

“That-that was amazing. God, you are so fucking amazing.” I know that I probably have the stupidest grin on my face and I am almost certain it screams ‘my boyfriend just blew me in a vacant office while we are supposed to be recording an album’ but, it was seriously _amazing_.

“I aim to please. We better get back though.” He says in a low deep voice that makes me half hard again.

“Probably but, let me reciprocate first?” I say a bit coquettishly. He snickers at that and I can’t say that I blame him.

“I’m alright. Besides, you’ll make it up to me later.” He winks and bites his bottom lip and yep, I am almost fully hard again.

“You bet your ass I will.” I pull my underwear and pants back up and try to make myself look as if my boyfriend didn't just get me off in a back office while we are in the middle of tracking a song.

“You look fine, Dall. Come on, let’s go. Spencer is probably flipping out by now.” He opens the door and we walk fast back to the studio control room where Kenny and Spencer are now sitting and apparently waiting, on us. Brendon just nods at them as we walk in the door.

“Where the hell were you two? Wait, are you okay, Dall? You look a little flushed.” Spencer asks as I sit down next to Kenny.

“Yea. I’m good. Great. Uh, is it my turn yet?” Spencer gives me a sideways look as if he doesn't believe me but he doesn't say so.

“Sure. Unless B wants to do vocals next? Up to him.” He looks a Brendon and he shrugs.

“Okay, get your ass in there and lay down bass lines then.” I look at Bren and he walks me out the door and into the isolation booth.

“You remember what we went over?” It’s amazing how he can get right back to business mode in just a matter of seconds.

“Yea. I think I’m good.”

“Alright, knock ‘em dead, babe.” He says as he presses a kiss to my forehead. I must be blushing because he says “You’re so fucking cute. Don’t feel special though, I kissed Spencer on the forehead too.” And winks at me as he walks back to the control room laughing to himself.

I take a minute to center myself and in my headphones I hear Brendon’s voice. “Any time you're ready, Okay? You've got this.”

I give him a thumbs up and all the nervousness I felt before starts to fade away as my fingers glide easily over the strings. I finish my last note and I hear B in my headphones again.

“Dall, that was perfect. Honestly, I think we got most of it in just that first take. Let’s redo that last verse and we’re good to go.” He tells me. I can hear in his voice how proud he is and it makes me want to play just that much better.

I missed this. I missed making music with my friends, with Brendon.

I finish the second take and Brendon is walking back into the isolation booth as I unplug my bass.

“Dall, it’s like you have been practicing that song forever. I am so happy with how that sounded. I knew you could do this!” He beams.

“I wasn’t nervous at all. It’s like as soon as I played the first note it all disappeared.” I say a bit astonished. “It just felt right.”

“Because you were born to fucking do this; this is what makes you happy and I see that more now than I ever have before.” His smile is contagious and I can’t do anything to keep this silly grin off of my face. I walk back into the control room and Spencer gives me the nod of approval as I take a seat next to Kenny.

“Shit, Dall, that was awesome! I think you are going to be the only on to get it on the very first take.” Kenny says as he high fives me.

I am in my zone today and everything feels right in the world. The boys are happy that the song is almost complete, Bilvy and Gabe are coming out next week, and my anxiety is almost at a zero. I take this as a sign that I need to get this talk with Zack out of the way; the sooner the better. I pull my phone out of my pocket before I lose my nerve and find his name in my contacts.

I type out a quick message to him:

“ _I know you don’t want to hear that I am sorry but, I am. Can you meet me so we can talk in person?”_

I don’t expect him to text me back right away and he doesn't until about 30 minutes later.

**_From Zack:_ ** _Don’t want to hear that shit, dall. Yes, what time?_

_“Meet me at 7 at our house?”_

**_From Zack:_ ** _I’ll be there. Have beer._

I text back “ _Duh.”_ and I slip my phone back in my pocket. I glance over at Spencer who gives me an inquisitive look.

“What’s up, Dall?”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I just text Zack, we’re going to talk tonight.”

“Oh. I didn't think you would do it so soon but, good. It needs to be done; better to just get it out of the way, right?

“Yeah, I think that has pretty much been my motto this week to be honest.” I say laughing.

“Whatever works, man.”

I nod at Spencer thoughtfully and get up to find Brendon. Of all the conversations I knew I would have to have with people, the conversation with Zack is probably going to be the worst. He will probably never trust me again and I deserve that but, I hope that he can at least forgive me.

Brendon is sitting on one of the stools by the music stands fixing something on his lyric sheet when I walk up.

“Hey, Babe. I just have to finish this and we'll be done for the day.” He says without looking up.

“Sounds good. We may need to stop at the liquor store on the way home; just an FYI.”

“Okay? You haven't drank in like 10 months, why the sudden interest?” His voice is lighthearted and somewhat amused.

“I might need to tonight. Zack is coming over.”

"We'll stop on the way home.” He chuckles to himself as he finishes his notations. “You know he isn't mad at you, right?”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me but, honestly, how could anyone _not_ be mad at me?” It’s an honest answer and a subject that Brendon and I have talked about numerous times. The only factor that ever remained a wild card was indeed Zack. He isn't someone you fuck with on a normal basis. He has one job and that is to look out for us so I can completely understand if I broke that trust with him. Everyone else seems to think I am being ridiculous by saying that though.

“Shush! We've been over this and over this; you'll see. I just need to find Spencer real quick and then I’ll be ready.” He puts his arm around my shoulder. “You worry too much, Dallon.” He tells me quietly.

“Are you just now figuring that out?” I say with a smirk.

He rolls his eyes and we find the boys so we can say goodbye. As we head out to the car he says “It really is going to be fine, Dallon. I wouldn't tell you that if I didn't believe it.”

“I know B, I know.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon is long overdue for a talk with Zack and he realizes how much guilt everyone else is holding inside of them...

“Hey, man. Come on in, you know where the beer is.” I hear the front the door close and my heart is racing like I just ran a fucking marathon. _I really shouldn’t be this nervous talking to him._ I take a breath and casually make my way into the kitchen- grabbing a glass from the cabinet and offering one to Zack-he declines; he always does.

“Let’s go out on the patio and we can catch up.” Brendon says, cocking his head in the direction of the door and trying to steer the awkwardness of all of this into something that is just slightly less intimidating. I nod and follow them outside; sitting in between the two of them at the table. Before I can even will my brain into letting me speak, Brendon speaks up.

“You two want to be alone? I can keep myself busy.” Brendon asks innocently.

Zack shakes his head and says “Look, let’s just get this shit out in the open because I don’t want to drag this out any longer than it already has been. We both fucked up, Dallon. I should have known that something was going on and you should have come to me or someone if you felt that damn low. I hate that it literally happened under my watch but, I guarantee it won’t fucking happen again. Do you know how fucking dangerous it is for you to be on medication and not tell anyone about it, especially on tour? Do you know that I almost quit the day I found out that you almost died?! I am in no way trying to make you feel like an asshole but, there was a lot at stake, Dallon. More than you even know, to be perfectly honest.” 

My heart sinks and I know I have to say something, “It’s not going to happen again.” I say, softly. “But, I really am sorry that it _did_ happen. I never meant for any of this to go down like it did, ya know? I thought I was alright but, I wasn’t. I wish things were different but I can’t change what happened and I know you aren’t going to trust me but, I do promise that if I ever feel like that, I won’t wait to tell anyone.”

His expression softens just a little but, I know he is still pissed. _Hell, why wouldn’t he be?_

“I know that you think I was mad at you this whole time but, I wasn’t. Dallon, I can’t be mad at you for something that wasn’t _really_ in your control. I am however, really fucking disappointed in _myself_ for not taking things as serious as they were. I should have seen the signs and as much as I pride myself on how I can protect all of you from crazy fans and paparazzi, I couldn’t protect you from yourself. That is the guilt I get to live with. _I should have fucking listened to him.”_ He mumbles the last part and Brendon and I both look at each other.

“Listened to whom?” I ask him.

“What? Nothing- look it’s not a big deal.” He sighs loudly, “Someone came to me a few weeks before tour ended saying that they thought something wasn’t right with you but, I dismissed it because I didn’t see it. I should have taken that more seriously.”

“Who came to you, Zack?” Brendon beats me to the question and he looks just as confused as I am.

“I shouldn’t say. I don’t want to cause shit between anyone.” He breaks his eye contact with me and looks down at his bottle.

“I won’t be mad, I am just genuinely curious.” I say carefully.

He ponders it for a minute and he finally mutters, “It was Patrick.”

 “Stumph?” Brendon and I say at the same time.

“Is there any other? Yes. He pulled me aside one day and told me that he noticed some things that were going on and asked if there was any truth behind it. At the time, I thought he was nuts because- well, because it’s Patrick and while he is used to Pete’s antics in the past, I couldn’t understand the shit that he thought was going on- but, I see it now. I wasn’t looking at the bigger picture like he was I guess.”

“If Patrick thought something was wrong, why didn’t he just come and ask me?” It’s a valid question. Pete has had his fair share of mental issues in the past and Patrick has pretty much helped him put his life back together again; if he noticed something, I figure he would have called me out on it.

“He said it wasn’t his place and that he hoped that he was just being overly cautious. He talked to Pete about it and Pete told him to come to me if he was concerned. I watched you for a week or so to see if anything seemed odd but the only thing I noticed was that you and Brendon were getting closer; which clearly, wasn’t anything new. I honestly thought all the secretive shit was so that no one knew you were getting together so, I let it go. I admit that my judgment was wrong and I should have listened to Patrick.”

The look on Brendon’s face is that of utter shock so I assume he’s a bit miffed that _he_ didn’t even know that Patrick came to Zack.

After about a minute Brendon says looking rather annoyed, “Why didn’t you tell me that Patrick came to you?”

“Like I said, at the time, I didn’t think anything was going on. Let’s be realistic, I have known you since you were 17, Bren, I can usually figure this shit out. You guys have put me through so much shit in the past ten years; nothing ever really surprises me anymore. So, when all this happened, when I realized that what Patrick was concerned about was pretty spot on, I was fucking blindsided.”

I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding and I look at Zack.

“I don’t really know what to say except that I am sorry. Lately, I feel like a goddamn broken record because I have said it so many times now in the past year but, I really truly am.” It’s the only thing I can say right now but, I mean it. I feel like an idiot for all of this. I wasn’t in the best place back then and at the time, it made sense to do it. I didn’t have the coping skills to stop myself from destruction.

“I know you are and I accept your apology but, it can’t happen again, Dall. I really can’t go through all of that again and I know no one else can. Pete reamed my ass over all of this. I have never seen him so fucking upset or angry in the 10 years that I have known him. I mean, if I hadn’t thought about quitting, I definitely thought he was going to fucking fire me and maybe he should have. I should always be one step ahead of you guys and I failed at that.”

Brendon looks at Zack and says, “It’s partly my fault though, dude. I knew what was going on and I thought I could handle it. We all know that didn’t work out very well but, I am partly to blame for this. We purposefully kept it a secret, that isn’t going to happen again.” Brendon’s whole demeanor just shifted and now I feel almost a little uncomfortable having this conversation. Ultimately, I am the one who fucked up so why is everyone taking the blame for it? I can’t let this go on any longer.

“Let me just make something perfectly clear. _I_ am the one that fucked up. _I_ am the one that made a terrible fucking decision and I will _not_ sit here and listen to you two try and figure out who is to blame! No one but _me_ is to blame for this! Do you understand!?”

“Dallon please don’t-“Brendon starts to say but I cut him off.

“No, Bren. I fucked up; I am paying the penance for it. I appreciate the fact that everyone wants to spread the blame around so it looks as if I am only partly to blame but, no. All I have heard is how everyone “blames themselves for it.” Before I even realize what I am doing, I hold my arm out displaying my scars, “Do you see this? _I did this._ No one talked me into it or held a gun to my head; I am the one to blame. I fucked it all up so, let’s all start acting like it!” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That wasn’t exactly how I intended this all to go. I am sure this little outburst is probably not going to help my case of wanting to stop my meds but, it’s not fair for everyone to keep blaming themselves.

“Fuck.” Is all Zack says and it comes out muffled from behind his hand.

“I’m sorry- what?” I say a little more calm.

“I- uh- I never saw them until just now.” His face goes a little pale and he slinks back in his chair a bit.

“Oh, god- I’m sorry! Um- Excuse me.” I say as I get up and step in the house. My hands are clammy and my heart is racing. _I can’t believe I just fucking did that._ I make it to the kitchen counter and brace myself against it before I slump down against the cabinets and take a few deep breaths. I absent mindedly pinch the skin on the inside of my bicep. It’s not distracting enough but, it helps. Moments later, Zack walks in through the door. I quickly stand up and pretend to busy myself with something on the counter while trying to breathe normally.

“I wasn’t trying to-“

“Hey no, it’s fine, Zack.” I interrupt; my voice wavering a little. “It’s fine, Okay?”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

I turn slowly and look at him standing in the entranceway of the kitchen. He walks a few more steps towards me stopping a couple feet in front of me. His lips are pressed into a hard line but his eyes look sympathetic; a look I have rarely seen on his face.

“I don’t really know what everyone wants me to say. I mean- look, I fucked up, Zack. I literally wanted to die and I tried to fucking kill myself. I know it’s not what anyone wants to hear but, it’s a fact and we all know it. I wish it were different. I wish I had asked for help and that I wasn’t such a coward but, we can’t change the past. All I know now is that we all need to focus on getting past this or nothing will ever be the same again. Do you get that? I screwed up everyone’s life _and my own_ in a 24 hour period and all everyone else can do is blame themselves. It’s not a fun fucking position to be in to be perfectly honest.”

“You may have fucked it up by yourself but, you have four people willing to put their asses on the line for you in order to help you. We all are taking the blame for this because we are a fucking family, Dallon. If one of us hurts, we all hurt. It may not be physical pain but I assure you that we have all been through a lot in the past year. This isn’t us ganging up on you, this is us trying to help you so, stop being an asshole and give me a fucking hug.”  His lips turn upwards just slightly into a hint of a smile and I walk forward to give him a hug. He pulls me in and says softly “If you tell anybody this _I will murder you in your sleep_ but, I think the only time in the past ten years that I cried like that was the night that Brendon called me -told me what happened. Don’t _ever_ make me cry again, dude.” He releases me from his grip and I step back towards the counter again.

“I have no intentions of doing that.” My voice is soft and I feel a little fragile right now.

“Good. Now, how long do you think it will take Brendon to come inside to see if I killed you?” He laughs and starts walking back towards the patio door and stops and says, “Glad you’re here, man. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” and walks back outside.

I can very faintly hear Brendon and Zack talking outside and I figure I better get myself together and rejoin them. I grab a beer from the fridge and slowly make my way to the patio again. Brendon gives me a smirk and Zack holds his beer up to mine. “Cheers” I say, and quietly clink my bottle against his.

We sit around and bullshit for a few more hours before Zack calls it a night. Brendon looks absolutely beat and he looks at me wearily when I ask if he wants to go to bed or watch TV.

“Bed, Please? Are you even tired?”

“Not especially but, I could use a good cuddle if you’re up for it?”

“ _Are you new!_? When do I ever _not_ want to cuddle?” He looks at me with mock disgust.

“You’re right; I don’t know _what_ I was thinking! C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

I start changing into my pajama pants and I get momentarily distracted by Brendon changing into his. The smooth curve of his ass, his toned thighs, and his defined hips makes my dick interested in more than just looking.

“Looks like someone likes the show.” He muses, as he saunters over to me and pulls me in close for a kiss. His lips are dry but, soft and I gently bite his bottom lip as he pulls away slowly.

“What can I say; I’m a big fan of your work, Mr. Urie. Also, I believe I owe you an orgasm.” I very gently take the skin over his collarbone in between my teeth as he melts into me breathing a quiet sigh of contentment. I begin to lick and suck at his skin until his hips start to grind against mine. Carefully, I walk him back towards our bed until the back of his knees bump against the side of the mattress.

“God, Bren. You are so fucking perfect.” He tilts his head to one side baring his neck to me and I swipe the flat of my tongue towards his ear biting softly at his lobe. A small noise, almost like a small squeak escapes his mouth and I am almost instantly hard.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what you want me to do for you.” My voice is barely a whisper as his eyes slip shut for a brief second.

“I want you to fuck me. I want to feel myself stretch around you.” His words sound so desperate and needy; any signs of him being tired have long passed.

“Mmmhmm what else, Bren? What else do you want me to do?”

“Just want you inside me, baby. Please?” He kisses me urgently; his tongue finding its way between my lips and mingling with mine. His hands are scrambling across my back pulling me even closer to him.

“Okay, okay, B. I’ve got you -lay down.” I can’t help the smile that has spread across my face, it’s nice to feel loved and wanted. I help him to lie down and wander over to get the lube and a condom from the side table while he takes his pants off and practically throws them to the floor.

“Hurry your ass up, Dall.”

“You are so fucking impatient, gimme a second.” I pull my pajama pants off and crawl back onto the bed in between his legs. I use my knees and spread his thighs apart a little more as I position myself. I pour some of the lube onto my fingers and let it sit for a few seconds to bring it closer to body temperature and then I slowly sink one finger into him.

“Does that feel good, babe?”

“Yes. More?”

I insert a second finger and begin to move them in and out crooking them slightly to brush against to his prostate. His head tilts back and he starts babbling by the time I am almost finished prepping him. I carefully remove my fingers and he makes a soft displeased noise.

“Give me a second, ok?” I say quietly.

I roll the condom onto my length adding a little extra lube before I toss the bottle to the floor.

“You ready, B?” I reposition his legs and he looks at me and smiles.

“Please- Dallon, please?”

“Shh, I’ve got you, B. Ready?” I move closer to him and begin to enter him slowly allowing him to stretch around me as I fill him.

“So, good B. You feel so good.” He is so tight around me I almost come just from that alone. I pull out a little and  tightly hold the base of my dick for few seconds so I can enter him fully again. I slowly slide in and it’s almost hard to move he is so tight so I go as slow as I can without actually stopping. Eventually, as he relaxes a little, I can move a little faster and work up a decent rhythm. His legs wrap around me and he pulls me into him so that our chests are almost touching. I lean in leaving a small trail of kisses along his perspiring chest. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and makes what sounds like a humming noise and that is usually a good indication that he is getting pretty close.

I reach between us and take his cock in my hand and start working my fist up and down his shaft. After a half dozen or so strokes, he bats my hand away and takes himself in his hand instead and tries to match my rhythm.

“I am so close, Dall. Harder!” His breathing is quick and his voice is so low it is almost not audible; it is sexy as fuck, actually. I lean back a little and take his hips in my hands, pulling out almost all the way and practically slamming back into him repeatedly. He moans loudly and in seconds he is coming loudly. Hot, sticky white streaks are now adorning his stomach and chest mixing with his sweat. That visual is all that is all I needed to send me over the edge as well. My hips stutter a few more thrusts and I am coming inside him; his name on my lips. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in close as we both lay there for a few minutes trying to catch our breath. I slide carefully out of him and dispose of the condom and grab a washcloth from the bathroom and help him clean off.

“Do you want your pants back on?” I ask him.

“Fuck it. Naked sleeping is better.” He mumbles and I sigh laughing as I climb into bed next to him adjusting the blanket so that he isn’t completely uncovered.

“Goodnight, Babe. I love you.” I whisper into his ear and kiss his forehead.

“Night- Love you.”  He reciprocates, and in about 30 seconds he is snoring.

I smile to myself and pull him closer to me. I would love to be able to fall asleep as quickly as he does but, my brain is working the nightshift and I lay there listening to him sleep until the clock on the wall nears 3 am.  I have my session with my therapist at 11am and I really need to get some sleep. I go back and forth with myself for several minutes finally deciding to wake Bren up so he can get my meds for me. I hate having to do it but, I really need rest if I am going to ask her if I can stop taking everything else.

I lightly shake him and whisper “Bren, Baby, wake up.”  He doesn’t even make a sound.

I shake him a little harder, “Babe, wake up. Wake up.”

He flips over in bed and looks at me with the sleepiest eyes. “Hmmm?”

“Sorry. I need you to go get my meds, or tell me where they are or something. I can’t fall asleep.”

“It’s okay. What time is it?”

“Almost 3:15.”

“Shit. Yea, I’ll get them.” He pulls back the covers and slides out of bed. I hear him flipping light switches and making his way downstairs; he comes back in a few minutes with two pills and a glass of water.

“Thank you, I only need one pill though.”

“Take both of them. Last time you only took one and you were a zombie but never went to sleep. Trust me; you’ll actually fall asleep if you take both of them.”

“Yeah, I remember now. Thank you.” I take them both and hand him the glass to set on the nightstand. He climbs back into bed and snuggles up behind me his arm pulling me close to him so he can rest his head on my shoulder.

“Sorry I had to wake you up.” I whisper to him.

“Shhh, that’s why I am here, babe. Now, it’s sleepy time. Sweet dreams. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

My brain starts to slow and I can feel the heaviness in my eyelids. The last thing I hear him say before I start to drift off is “Not even possible, baby.”

 

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendons fears are realized when Dallon gets permission to stop his medication. This may be more than everyone bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of things happening in this chapter therefore, it took me a little longer to write than it normally would, but that also made it twice as long. Gabe and William appear in the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)

**Thank you to [Watabi12](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Watabi12/pseuds/Watabi12) for being my beta on this chapter. <3 **

 

 

 

The waiting room of my therapist’s office is probably pretty typical of other offices. A fish tank, a few chairs, and a stack of magazines that nobody ever reads. I am almost certain they are the same ones that have been here since I started to see her a few years ago, actually. Brendon is sitting next to me, his foot bouncing obnoxiously as we wait for my therapist to call me in. He would never admit it, but he hates being here just as much as I do. He has a fear of Doctors’ offices; Doctors in general, to be exact. It might be one of the only things that will make him instantaneously anxious. Week after week, I tell him he doesn’t have to come with me but he always insists, so every week he sits next to me bouncing his foot and biting his nails. I gently place my hand on his knee and his foot stops bouncing.

“Sorry.” He smiles and laughs nervously.

“You need to relax, Bren. I would have thought you would be used to this office by now; we’ve been here every week for how many months?” I smile at him and he takes my hand in his.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He laughs, giving my hand a quick squeeze. I start to say something to him, but I end up trying to stifle a yawn behind my other hand instead and he looks at me with that all-knowing look.

“You really need to start taking your meds every night to go to sleep, Dall. I hate that you are tired every day.” His sympathetic look is enough to make me want to agree, but I don’t.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired. It’s the meds I take during the day, B – _it’s not my sleeping patterns._ I am exhausted during the day and wired at night when they wear off- no big deal.”

“It’s actually a _huge_ deal. We have to figure something out before next tour. I know-“

“I will figure it out, Bren. I promise.” I politely interrupt, and he looks at me like he has a million times before; that same exhausted, over cautious look that he has somehow perfected. “We will, B. Okay?”

“Okay.” He says quietly and pecks a small kiss to my cheek.

A few minutes go by and I hear a door open and my therapist say, “Dallon, you can come in now.” I get that sinking feeling in my chest like I always do when I hear her say that. Even though things have been better lately, there is always a chance she sees it the opposite way and then I have to figure out how to explain myself without sounding insane _. I try to limit that as much as possible these days._

We take a seat on the brown couch in her office and Brendon takes a small deep breath letting it out really slowly.

"Well, Mr. Weekes, how have you been this week?" Although she asks this every week; today I feel like I am sitting in the principal’s office in middle school.

"Had a pretty bad panic attack the other day, I know what triggered it though and I worked through it pretty well." I glance at Brendon and he nods in agreement. "Other than that, I guess that I am okay." Brendon shoots me a pointed look that I am almost certain she saw.

"I really do feel good and- I'd like to just skip the formalities if you don't mind? Bottom line is that I want to not take so many meds. Actually, I'd like to not take _any_ of them." The look on her face is that of confusion and I can feel Brendon's eyes burning their way through the side of my head. He knew I was going to bring this up, I don’t know why he is so against it all.

"Ok, I guess we will start there. Why do you want to stop taking your medications, Dallon?" The thing about my therapist is that she really is the nicest person. However, when she says shit with that almost _condescending tone_ , it makes me want to walk out and never look back.

"I feel as if I have been doing relatively well for the last 8 months and all I do is spend the day being frustrated because _I can't get through the fog of those damn pills._ I wake up every day hoping that I can get something accomplished without feeling like I have no drive."

"So, you feel as if you can't get anything accomplished because you don't have the energy to do it?" I still don't like her tone and I _know_ where she is going with this.

"I know what you are hinting at. Honestly, this isn't the same as being depressed and not wanting to do things; this is literally the chemicals that I am taking- _they_ _do not help me in any way_. I know what depressed feels like and trust me, this isn't it."

_I really hope I am getting my point across without sounding like an asshole._

"I see. How is your anxiety?"

_Fucking hell, is she seriously going to do this?_

"My anxiety is always going to be a part of me, right? No medication is going to completely get rid of that? We're in the studio right now and yes, I _am_ anxious a lot of the time, but it's not nearly as bad as it has been in the past. I get irritated a little quickly sometimes- it really just depends on what is going on."

She nods slightly- pursing her lips and writes something down on her note pad _and then she looks at Brendon._

"Brendon, how would you feel if Dallon stopped his medication?"

He looks at me and I actually feel bad for him, talk about being in a rock and a hard place.

"Um- I think that he has made a lot of improvements in the past year and I also know that a lot of that has to do with the meds. Of course I want what he wants, but I don't feel completely comfortable that he stops _everything_. I agree that he doesn't seem as depressed. However, he doesn't sleep much and his anxiety is awful some times. He got pretty upset last night when we were talking to a friend of ours about what happened. I can understand that though." He looks at me thoughtfully and I shrug my shoulders. What else can I really do? I keep my mouth shut because I know it's just going to get me in trouble. This isn't over though; Brendon and I will be having that discussion when we get home.

“Dallon, have you had any thoughts of hurting yourself or suicide lately?”

“No. Not for a long time.”

She nods slowly, stops writing, and thinks for a moment which is usually a bad sign so, when she starts to speak, I have to fight my instinct to just stop listening altogether.

"Dallon, I am willing to try something but you have to be completely honest with me. If it doesn't work, I need you to be willing to go back on a mood stabilizer. I can't just stop your medications, I know that you know this. I am, however, willing to wean you off of your current mood stabilizer, given that you still take your anti-depressant and take your anxiety medication _when you need it._ I want you to know that I am doing this because I trust that you aren't trying to hurt yourself and that you aren't in any immediate crisis. However, if you seem to be heading back in that direction or if there are any concerns, I will start you back on something and you are just going to have to deal with it for a while. Is this something you think you can do?"

I am in shock to be honest so I just nod at her and even though I didn't really win this, I feel like I did. I knew in the back of my head that she wouldn't stop everything- I just needed her to know that I am serious about this and I know what’s going on in my brain better than everyone else thinks that they do.

"I can live with that, yes. I promise that if I start to get bad again, I will make sure someone knows. How long will it take to wean me off of that medication?"

"I don't want to do it too fast. We will decrease your dosage little by little over the next few weeks. You've been on it for a while so the slower we can go, the fewer side effects you may encounter. It's not going to be easy, Mr. Weekes, but I am willing to try if you are."

"At this point, I am willing to try anything that isn't more medication. I think that I am ready for this if everyone else is?" I look at Brendon. He shrugs his shoulders, "Dall, I'm just along for the ride, we'll try it and see what happens. That's all anyone can say right now, right?" He smiles at me and takes my hand in his. "We'll figure it out."

She finishes explaining how I am going to wean off of my meds and has me repeat it back to her so she knows I understand. I ask a few more questions about side effects and how long they will last and we finally seem to be on the same page.

"Alright, I want to see you back next week and we'll see how it's going. You both have my cell number if you need anything. Have a good week, guys."

Brendon doesn’t say anything as we leave the office. He just keeps walking out the door and to the parking lot. When we’re half way to the car, Brendon stops mid-step and says, "I don't want to sound like an asshole, but did that really just happen?"

I start laughing at him because _who the fuck says that?_ I can't even be mad at him though because I know where he is coming from. _I honestly can’t believe it happened either._

"Yeah. That totally happened, Bren." I turn and look him in the eyes, "I swear to you it's going to be okay. If it's not, you're going to be the first to know anyways."

"I know. I just get worried. I- you _know_ why." He turns his head away from me and looks at his feet. I gently take his chin in my hand and tilt it up so his eyes meet mine.

"I made my promises, Bren. I am _not_ in the business of breaking them anymore, okay?"

"I know. I want this to work out for you. I _swear_ I am not against you; you know that right?"

"I know that we are both scared as fuck. I have a good feeling about it though. Let’s talk about this more when we get home, okay?"

"Alright, let's get home. I love you, Dallon."

“I love you too, babe.”

It’s not a long car ride home but it was pretty quiet; Brendon only speaking once when he asked who the artist was on the radio and the verdict being that neither of us really knew. Once we were home and in the comfort of our living room, I pull him into me and hug him for what seems like forever. He just hugs me back and nods against my shoulder.

“I am not going to screw this up, B. I promise that if something isn’t right you will know and we will fix it. I can’t guarantee that I am going to be the nicest person for the next few weeks though. My emotions are already pretty heightened so, I am going to try to deal with that as best as possible I- _just let me try this._ I need to know if I can do this without medication. I know this is a huge risk to you as well, please don’t think I am discounting your feelings. I would never do that.”

“Look at me Dallon and listen very closely, okay? If I think for _even one second_ that you are becoming more depressed, if you are going to hurt yourself, or anything like that; I will have her on the phone so fast- I do not want to lose you to those stupid fucking demons! I get that this is going to be a hot mess of emotions and I can be prepared for that, but if I even get a _hint_  of what has happened in the past-“, he sighs slowly, “Just please don’t hide anything from me, okay?”

“Bren, I _do not_ want to be back where I was. I can genuinely say that I do not ever want to be back in that mindset. I think maybe you should have a talk with William. He can fill you in on some of the things that were pretty telling of me being depressed and when I was hurting myself. He was the one that made me go see a therapist in the first place; he knows how bad I was back then. He will tell you anything you need to know about what to look out for. I don’t plan on hiding anything from you…ever. I would never do that on purpose. I just need to do this, Bren.” He takes his thumb and is gently rubbing over mine. He looks me in the eyes before kissing the end of my nose.

“I am here for whatever you need; you know that. I will always love you for better or for worse, Dall. I just worry, that’s all. Also, I think we need to let the guys in on what’s going on. It’s only fair that they know why you are doing this and they also need to be on the lookout for signs that things aren’t okay. Do you want to start weaning this week or after Gabe and Bilvy leave?”

I momentarily forgot that Gabe and William were coming in this week. “I think it’s fair to let the guys know, we’re going to be with them pretty much constantly the next few months. I don’t really know when to start, to be honest. Maybe I should start after they leave? I don’t want to ruin anyone’s time by being emotional or bitchy. But while they are here we can talk to William about it. Gabe doesn’t know about any of this though, William didn’t tell him.”

“Gabe still doesn’t know?”

I shake my head,  “No. I figured that is a talk Gabe and I can have while you and Bilvy talk. Gabe comes off as such an asshole to people, but you know he has the softest, kindest heart. Shit like this, he really takes personally; especially after what happened with Pete. I think _I_ need to be the one to talk to him because he is going to be pissed that he didn’t know.”

“That sounds like a good plan. You know I can’t hide the fact that I am scared about this, but I promise I am trying. By the way, I would feel better if I kept your meds hidden like I have been. I know you hate it, but it makes me feel better. I don’t ever want you to be at a point where I am not around and that feeling hits. I don’t want to make it fucking readily accessible for you to have a way out. It honestly is one of my biggest fears.”

“It’s alright. I know it makes you feel better. I am fine with it and I know why you do it. I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same if I was in your position. Do you feel a little better about this, now?” I look at up at him and he breathes another small sigh.

“Yes, for now. When are Gabe and William supposed to arrive by the way?”

 “Fair enough. They should be here Saturday morning at some point. Gabe flies back from Uruguay tonight and then he and William are pretty much getting on a flight down here when he comes in.”

“Cool. I miss them. Hey, are you hungry? Let’s go make some lunch.” He pulls me with him into the kitchen and I help him make some sandwiches. After we’re done eating and cleaning up the kitchen, he turns to me suddenly and says, “You know, one day all of this is going to be a distant memory and I can’t wait until that day. I hate that this is your life, Dallon. It’s really not fair that such an amazing, loving, talented, human being has to fight off so many fucking demons.”

“I never really thought about it that way, but thank you. I am really lucky that I have you. I am not sure if it were anyone else in your position that they would put up with me. I am kind of a mess in case you haven't noticed.”

“Yeah, but you are _my_ mess.”

I laugh, “I will _always_ be your mess.”

“Good!” He says, grinning “Hey, don't forget Spence is coming over in a little bit. We're going to work on the Vegas song; he thinks it needs to be more rock instead of those samples we tried. I swear it’s like some days he thinks we actually have to fit into some sort of genre.” We both laugh loudly- as if our band has ever fit into a traditional genre- _we don't even know what genre of music we are_. It’s been a running joke since the first record.

“I actually really like the version we have already. I think the samples make it sound more “Vegas-y”. If you go grungier it won’t have that Vegas club feel.”

“I agree but Spence thinks it could work so I am willing to entertain the idea for now.” He scrunches his nose a little and makes a goofy-disgusted face. 

“We'll see what happens, I guess. Do you want to talk to Spencer about the med thing tonight or wait until Kenny is around?”

“I guess it’s up to you. We don't really need to tell them right now if you don't want to. We can wait until after Gabe and Bilvy leave.”

“I think I should just get it over with if Spencer is going to be around later. I am sure Kenny won’t mind. I’d rather just tell them now and then they know what to expect rather than throwing it at them at the last minute.”

“Whatever you want to do is fine by me, babe.”

“I’d like to do that then. I think I might go take a nap for a bit; I am still really tired.”

“Do you want your meds or are you just going to lay down for a bit.”

“Just going to lie down and see what happens. I am exhausted enough that I might actually be able to sleep on my own for once. Come get me in a few hours if I am not up, please? I want to talk to Spence before he leaves.”

“Okay. Sweet Dreams.” He says giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “Love you, Dall.”

“Love you too.” I climb the stairs and practically fall into bed after I change into my sweat pants- I hate sleeping in my jeans. I set my alarm for 5pm and place my phone on the nightstand pulling the covers over me as I try to find a comfortable position. It’s hard to sleep alone in this big bed. I almost reach over and text B to see if he wants to cuddle for a bit but my brain starts to fog over and my eyelids get too heavy to even want to open them again- let alone grab my phone. I lay there for a few more minutes and at some point, I let myself surrender to sleep.

****

I wake up really needing to pee and it takes me a minute to realize what day and time it is; it’s been awhile since I have taken a nap in the middle of the day. I check my phone, it’s only 4:30, but if I fall back asleep now, I probably won’t be able to get any sleep tonight. I throw the covers off of me, pull myself up onto my elbows so I can sit up, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I contemplate putting my jeans back on and think “fuck it” because it’s _my_ house and not a fashion show. I make my way to the bathroom to relieve myself and as I am washing my hands, I notice how tired I look in the mirror.

 _Do I always look like this?_  

I turn and shut the light off and leave before I can answer the question. Halfway down the stairs I can faintly hear someone playing drums, but I can’t tell if it’s Spence or Bren. I laugh to myself because _only Brendon_ would invite a drummer to his house and _not let him play._ Right as I turn the knob and open the door, the music stops and to my surprise it’s actually Spencer behind the kit and Bren is sitting on the couch with his acoustic perched on his lap.

“Working hard? Hi, Spence.”

“Hey, Dall. You look tired, man.” Spencer gives me an almost sympathetic stare. I shrug my shoulders at him.

Brendon looks over at me and a smile- like that of the Cheshire cat- spreads across his face.

“I always work hard, dude. Did you actually get some sleep?”

“Yeah a few hours; I must have needed it. I only got up because I had to pee.”

“Obviously you needed it. Come sit next to me and tell me what you think of this song. Remember the one I was working on for the last album and it never sounded like it fit? I think it fits in better with this one.”

He strums a few chords on his guitar and sings softly, _“there's always time for second guesses I don't wanna know. If you're gonna be the death of me, that's how I wanna go.”_

“Yep. I remember that one. Are you going to leave it acoustic?”

“I am not exactly sure yet, but probably not. Everything else so far has that club/techno kind of feel; I think I wanna add some samples to it and see what happens.” He raises one eyebrow in an almost questioning gesture.

“That would make sense. It sounds good acoustic too. That will be nice for those smaller venues and the radio shows.” 

“That’s a good point. See, this is why I keep you around!” He leans over and presses a kiss to my temple and for some unknown reason I feel myself blushing. Spencer just rolls his eyes and laughs.

“Are you going to make out with your boyfriend or finish arranging this song?”

“I am a man of many talents- I can do both!”

“Of fucking course you can!” Spencer teases him and throws a drumstick in our general direction and it lands between the two of us on the couch.

“Actually, I need that back.” Spencer pleads.

“Nope! It’s one handed drumming for you from now on- _you made your choice_.” Brendon cackles as he shoves the drumstick into the side of the worn leather couch. Spencer doesn’t even care. He just gets up and comes to sit on the floor in front of us stretching his long legs out and resting back on his elbows.

“I guess you’re done being productive, hmm?” Brendon half nods and shrugs and after he puts his guitar on the floor by the couch, I look at Brendon and sigh while I lean over and place my head on his shoulder.

“What’s the matter, Dall?” Spencer looks at me and cocks his head slightly.

“Nothing much. Just woke up so, I am a little spacey I guess.”

“Nah. That’s not it. You have something you want to tell me.”

 _“How in the fuck?"_ Brendon mutters under his breath. Spencer always knows when someone wants to talk to him. It’s this weird “mom” vibe he has. It also makes it incredibly hard to keep secrets from him though because he will hound you until you tell him.

Spencer smiles brightly and Brendon laughs out loud. “You might as well tell him, it’s not like we are doing anything else right now.”

“I kind of wanted to be more awake for this but alright. Spence, in the next few weeks I am going to be starting to wean off of my mood stabilizer- _my therapist said it was fine_ \- I just wanted you to know because there is of course going to be side effects and my mood is probably going to be a little off for a while.”

He gives me the look that I expected from him- confused and a little nervous.

“Can I ask a stupid question?” He asks quietly.

“Nothing is stupid, go for it.” I tell him.

“Why? Why when you have been doing so well? Sorry-“

“No. It’s fine. I know what you mean.” I assure him, “Over the past 8-9 months I have tried really hard to get back to “normal”. When I take the meds, I feel so fucking tired. I have no motivation to do anything. It’s not depression; it’s the fact that the chemicals in this medication make me a zombie. Some days I am okay with that, but I don’t want to live my life like that anymore.”

“So you are stopping all your medications?”

“No. I am still going to take my antidepressant and my anxiety meds when I need them. It’s just the mood stabilizer that I am stopping. _Trust me… Brendon isn’t too thrilled about it either._ “

Brendon shoots me a shitty look, “Hey, that’s not fair, Dallon! The truth is that I could care less what you take as long as you are ok and not hurting yourself. _That’s the bottom line._ I agreed to this with the one rule: that if you start to get bad again, you go back on it. I am not against you, you know this.”

I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. That’s not really what I meant. I meant more so that you were anxious about this. I know you are on my side. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little scared too.” 

“So, what do we need to look for? What are some signs that things aren’t ok?” Spencer scoots a little closer to the couch drawing his knees to his chest resting his chin on them.

“William is better at this than I am, he knows all the tricks and shit, but if I start being more withdrawn, if my mood starts to fluctuate a lot once I am completely off the med, generally acting down or depressed, Um-“

“I swear to god, Dall, if I see _one cut_ you know I am going to have her on the phone so fucking fast.” _Brendon’s tone is a mix of almost threatening and scared shitless_.

“Bren, you need to chill for a minute, okay? It’s not as if I _want_ to do anything. I told her; just as I have told you, I am _not_ interested in hurting myself and I am _not_ suicidal. I am not just saying that, it’s the truth.”

He sighs and looks at me, “I know how you feel right _now_. I also know though that it is a very real possibility that something can happen while you are _stopping_ that medication. I know it won’t be your fault but it’s just a very real reality.”

I look at Spencer who is sitting there looking at me with wide eyes and I realize that he hasn’t really ever been privy to these conversations before; he looks scared shitless right now.

“Spence, you okay?”

“Yeah. This shit just keeps getting even more real. I honestly thought after all that has happened that you were in a good spot. I never realized that the medications were making you feel like that. Now it’s like it could happen all over again if we aren’t all careful. That’s a little scary, man.”

 “I just need to make sure we make it through those first two weeks without me being too overly emotional and having a meltdown- or everyone hating me. As B said, if it doesn’t work, if it gets too hard and I can’t handle it or I get to a point where I want to hurt myself- or worse, my therapist has a plan and I already agreed to it; I won’t back down from that. If I have to go into the hospital for a few days, I will. I want you guys to know that I am serious about this and I _do_ know the reality of it. The stars are pretty much aligned against me, but I need to do this. I can’t go through life feeling like this. I need you to trust me.”

“Dall, we’ve got you. We’re gonna do this and if it doesn’t work, at least we’ll know a little more about that brain of yours. I am not going to let it get to a point where you are able to hurt yourself. I will talk to William when they get here and see what he has to offer as advice. I have told you from _day one_ that I will always be by your side. I meant that, every word.” Brendon pulls me into his side and hugs me. I know he is scared, but I have no other choice if I want to be off that stupid medication. I wonder some days how he puts up with me.

Spencer breaks the silence asking, “When are you doing this?”

“After Gabe and William leave.”

“Whatever we need to do, we’ll do it. Dall, I would much rather be involved in this and nothing happens then ignore what is going on and there be a repeat of last time. I still kick myself for being fucking clueless as to what was going on before. “

“Spencer, this is nothing like what happened before. When all of that happened- look, I made a poor choice in stopping my medications completely instead of weaning off of them and it threw me into a really dark depression; I know now how stupid that was. This, however, this is controlled- this is nothing like last time. Please, please, please stop blaming yourself! You really need to let go of that guilt because honestly, even if you _had_ known, there is nothing you could have done to stop it. It probably would have happened eventually and it probably would have been worse.” I cringe at what I just said but he needs to hear it; they both do. “I hate saying it like that, but it’s true. I was on a mission; I had a plan. I was in the darkest place I have ever been and hope to never be _anywhere near_ in my life and _this_ is not what _that_ was.“

He nods his head silently and stands up. My heart starts to race because I think in my mind that I offended him somehow- too detailed, too open. I turn my head and look at Bren and I feel the couch dip down next to me and Spencer is leaning into me and his head is resting on my shoulder.

“Dallon, I am pretty scared about this because some nights when I close my eyes I see- look, I don’t ever want to see that look on Brendon’s face ever again.” He says quietly, “So, if you’re doing this, then we’re all doing this together. This will be good for you; I just want you to be safe and I want Brendon to be okay too, deal?”

“Deal.” I tell him solemnly, “Hey, um- for what it’s worth, I am sorry for all of this. I know this isn’t exactly how you envisioned the band going.”

Spencer gives me a quick half-smile, “This has nothing to do with- Ok, I am going to say this as nicely as possible… shut up, Dallon. We were fucking 17 years old when we started this band and we had no idea what the hell we were doing. The only “direction” we had in mind was the need for places to sleep and food to eat. The rest was just filler. I get to spend my life doing what I love, with the people that mean the most to me, and that’s pretty much the only thing I could ask for in life. When you joined the band, it was like breathing new life into something that so desperately needed it. We knew it was going to be hard, but we made it through and now we’re family. You’ll always be family to me and family helps each other when they need it the most. So, don’t ever think for one minute that you are making any of this hard for us. This- this is motivation to make the best fucking album and get out there and do what we all love to do.”

Spencer leans into me again and gives me a hug before he sits back on the couch; Brendon is sitting next to me and is being suspiciously quiet.

“What’s up, B?” I say as I nudge him playfully in his ribs.

“Nothing. I am just glad I still get to do this. I still get to be in a band with my best friends and my boyfriend. A year ago-“ His voice breaks and he stops speaking and his lower lip is quivering just slightly. I pull him into me and rest his head on my shoulder, stroking his hair softly.

“Shhh. I know, B, I know.” He nods and I rub his back in between his shoulder blades. “Look at me, babe.” His head raises and I can see the tears pricking the corners of his eyes, “I am not going anywhere. I am here forever, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know I-“ He takes a deep shaky breath and lets it out really slowly, “I want us to grow old together, ya know? I want to get married and I want to have kids with you- _only you, Dall._ I don’t want anyone else in the world and even a passing thought of not having you in my life is enough to make me break down. I just can’t stand the thought. I know how hard you try- fuck, you have so much shit to deal with and I just don’t want there ever to be a day where you can’t do it anymore. I would literally do anything to make sure that never happens.”

“I’ve said it before, Bren; I am not in the business of breaking my promises anymore. I - _Wait, did you say you wanted to marry me?”_

His eyes go wide and the look on his face screams _are you kidding me?_

 _“_ Of course I want to marry you! This is not me proposing though. I need some time to work on that, but yes, of course.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me! I want all those things too. I want the house, the kids; I want _you_ for the rest of my life. I just need to get this leveled first. I just need everyone to be on board for what could happen. I love you so much.”

He takes a deep breath and kisses me very sweetly taking my hand in his he says, “I love you too. We’ll get through this.”

From behind us I hear Spencer clearing his throat and for a minute, I almost forgot he was here.

“That is really sweet and everything, but are you two done having your little love fest over there?”

I laugh and Brendon throws the small couch pillow at his head. “You love us and you know it, Spencer! Stop pretending like this isn’t the sweetest thing you have ever seen.”

Spencer laughs and nods, “You’ve got me on that.”

“See? Spencer thinks we’re cute!” Brendon says jabbing me in the ribs. 

I am just about to smack him when his cell starts to ring. He fishes it out of his pocket and answers it.

“Hey. Yeah, wait, slow down. Why wouldn’t everything be okay? No, he’s right here- do you want to talk to him? Yes, he is sitting right next to me- I just said that. Hold on.” He says to whoever is calling and then hands me the phone. I look at the screen, it’s William.

“Hi, Bilvy.”

“You scared the living shit out of me, I called you like five fucking times and you didn’t answer! I thought- never mind.”

“My phone is in the bedroom, I guess I forgot to bring it downstairs. I’m sorry.”

He makes an irritated noise and I hear him take a deep breath letting it out in a dramatic huff. “It’s fine. Listen, we’ll be in around 10am on Saturday. Gabe can’t wait to see everyone. I just wanted to call and let you know the time and everything.”

“We can’t wait to see you either. Are you done having a panic attack now, Beckett?”  I know it isn’t funny- I laugh anyways.

“Fuck you. _Yes, I am!”_

“Ok, good. We’ll see you on Saturday, okay?”

“Yep. Bye, Dall.”

“Bye.”

I hand B his phone and he just looks at me as if he is expecting some sort of amazing explanation. “Bilvy tried to call my phone and he couldn't get ahold of me, so naturally he panicked. He also said they would be here around 10 on Saturday morning.”

Brendon just shakes his head slipping his phone back in his pocket. He grabs my hand again as I snuggle into his side. He and Spence start talking about the album and I start to zone out wishing that William and Gabe were here already.

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe and William are visiting finally! Dallon and Gabe talk about everything that has happened. Gabe is really supportive and offers some words of wisdom...
> 
>  
> 
> **It took me a while to write this chapter which is why its a decent sized chapter. More William and Gabe in the next chapter as well. Thank you for reading!**

Brendon and I have spent the last few days back and forth between the house and the studio. Despite our best efforts on trying to make the house presentable for our guests and also finding time to sleep- sleep has lost. We’re both so exhausted by Friday that we ended up falling asleep at 6 in the afternoon. I wake up at 7 am Saturday morning to a snuggly Brendon tightly pressed against my chest. He is making the most adorable contented sighs in his sleep, so I wait another 30 minutes before I wake him up. He has been working so hard on the album lately- he deserves more than just a few hours of rest. When we are both finally awake, we rush to finish all of the last minute odds and ends. Somehow I get laundry duty. _How is that even remotely fair?_ Brendon gets stuck mowing the lawn though, so I guess I really shouldn’t complain. I am still folding laundry when Bren comes in hot and sweaty from the backyard. Usually, I would be all over him and one of us would end up bent over the kitchen counter, but we have no time for that today. I instead usher a pouting Brendon up the stairs with a clean towel and hear him mutter something like _“it wouldn’t even have taken that long!”_ as he practically slams the bathroom door.  I just smile to myself and throw his nasty clothes into the washer.

Gabe and William should be arriving any minute and I don’t think I have ever been so excited _and nervous_ to get to hang out with the both of them. One of the best things about them is that they are the legendary couple from the scene. They have withstood so much shit in the past 5 years that it really is a testament to how strong of a relationship they have. When I first met Gabe, I thought he was _such an asshole_ and well, to be completely fair, Gabe _is an asshole_ ; I really just didn't like him at first. He was brash, rude, and obsessed with sex. He is still all of those things but he has grown on me though- I honestly couldn't imagine William without him. I smile to myself thinking about how perfect they are for each other. William is level headed, sweet, and super smart and Gabe is passionate, loyal, and sometimes completely bat-shit crazy and I love them both.

I hear the doorbell ring from the laundry room and my heart flutters a little- a mix of anxiety and being excited I suppose. I start to walk out to get it, but Brendon beats me to it with a smile that reminds me of a child on Christmas morning. He loves Gabe and William just as much as I do.

"Brendon, you smooth motherfucker! I missed you!" Gabe's voice carries throughout the house and I laugh as I meet them in the foyer. William pulls me into a tight embrace and we hug briefly before Gabe is interfering, literally pushing William out of the way to hug me instead.

"Dallon! I missed you the most!" He says, teasing.  

I laugh loudly at his over-the-top greeting- it's just so _Gabe_ , "I missed you too, _Gabriel_. I'm glad you guys were able to visit."

"Man, I was just telling William a few weeks ago how much I missed you guys. It's like everyone dropped off the face of the earth last year."  

"Yeah, sorry about that." I halfway mumble.

He gives me a strange look, but I shrug it off and invite them into the living room; Brendon and I share the couch giving them the love seat.

"The guys are coming over later if you want to just hang out for a while or we can go get something to eat?" Brendon suggests.

"We ate before we left- we can wait. Let's catch up! What have you been up to?" Gabe asks excitedly. William looks at me with sympathetic eyes. I know he hasn't said anything to Gabe about any of this- _I almost wish he had though._

"Actually, we are in the studio right now. A few more songs and we might just have a finished album." Brendon's smile is wide and toothy- we are both so excited for this record.

"That's awesome! Bilvy was telling me you were working on one song for quite a while; it sounds like it's going to be a great album." Gabe looks at me pointedly, "So, you two are officially together now, huh? Last time I saw you, it was puppy love and secret make out sessions. I knew you two were fucking each other!" Gabe smirks.

I can't help but laugh at that because technically, he's right. The last little bit of tour, Gabe came to hang with Pete for a while and he caught us making out in the bus. Everyone pretty much makes out with whomever they want to on tour, so it's not like it was a secret or anything, but we weren’t exactly broadcasting it around tour either.

"Oh, we totally were. We didn't make it official for a little while after that, but yeah, it’s official now. Well, not publicly- we're not quite there yet." I tell him.

He grins and looks at Bilvy who takes his hand in his own. "Hey, we understand that. It's a big decision, ya know? So, let's hear that song, you guys! Do you have a demo done up?”

Brendon beams brightly and with wild hand gestures that mimic that of an airline attendant, he leads everyone into our music room. This is the first time anyone outside of the band or production has heard any of the new music- it's a little nerve wracking. He walks over to his laptop and messes around for a few moments before he presses play and out of the stereo I hear his voice, those words, I nearly melt right then. Brendon takes a deep breath and sits next to me on the couch while Gabe and William listen intently- Gabe tapping his feet to the synthesized rhythm. I knew it was just a matter of time before Bren would start singing along, _“I never really thought that you'd come tonight and the crown hangs heavy on either side. Give me one last kiss while we're far too young to die, far too young to die...”_

When you are waiting for someone to tell you what they think about something you wrote, 3 minutes and 17 seconds feels like an eternity. Patience happens to not be one of Brendon's virtues, so before the last note even finishes resonating, he is looking to the two of  them for some sort of sign of approval.  

Gabe looks at William and then at me before he turns to Brendon and says “Wow, dude, that song is fucking amazing.”

“You think so?”

“Have I ever lied to you? Why the fuck would I start now?”

“It's pretty amazing.” William adds.

Brendon practically leaps over me and William to high five Gabe who just grins and shakes his head, “If the rest of your songs are as good as that one- hell, if they are one tenth of what that one is, you'll hit platinum in 6 months.”

I smile widely at Brendon who has resumed his seat on the couch next to me. Placing his hand on my knee and says “We've got this Dall, this record is going to sell millions, just watch! All of the bullshit will have been worth it, I promise.”

I nod my head in agreement. _I really hope it is._

By the time we are done listening to the demo _for the third time_ , I look at the clock and realize the guys will be here any minute.

“Hey, let's go get the chairs in the backyard set up. It's near one o'clock.”  I say to Brendon who ignores me in favor of the conversation he is having with Gabe about _“the craziest shit they have seen on tour.”_   William however, has heard Gabe's stories a zillion times and decides to help me instead.

“Gabe can talk for hours if you let him- especially about tour shit. You don't even want to hear about half of the crap he has seen.” William visibly shudders and I laugh. “It's fucking disgusting the shit they used to do to each other as pranks, if he ever wants to have that conversation just change the topic to something else or don't say I didn't warn you.”  

“Definitely noted.” I say and I almost shudder just thinking about it.

He then looks at me and says, “When are you going to talk to Gabe?”

“I don't really know. Later I guess?”

“I am not making you, I am just asking you.”

“I will talk to him later, I promise. It will be easier when everyone else is here that way we can go sneak off-  and that totally sounds like I am going to go make out with Gabe somewhere. For the record, I am not going to go make out with Gabe.”

Williams mouth pulls into a smirk, “You better tell Gabe that or he will think  you two are going to make out and _you know that boy_ _fucking_ _loves to kiss._ ”

“Gross. Bilvy, trust me, that is not going to happen- I will inform him of that.”

“See to it that you do.” He just laughs and wipes a tear from his eye and then says, “I think I heard the doorbell.”

I go inside to check and Gabe has not only greeted Spencer, Kenny, and Zack ,but he is spinning Spencer around in a circle.

“Gabe, put the drummer down!” William yells to him and Gabe just smiles that shit eating grin and sets him down gently.

“He never lets me have any fucking fun I swear!” Gabe pouts, “Spence, tell Bilvy I can have fun!”

Spencer looks at Gabe, looks at William, and then back again, “Nope, you two fight it out, I have enough lovers quarrels to deal with between these two.” He says pointing his finger back and forth between Brendon and I with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, fuck all the way off, Spencer! We do not fight.” Brendon interjects and punches Spencer in the arm.

Spencer just looks at me with his eyes wide and I laugh a little too loudly, “Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way, beer is outside in the coolers. Let's go!”

We sit outside in the shade while Brendon grills; talking about old tours and music videos for a few hours.

“Ya know, for someone who I have seen covered in fake blood and singing about sucking dick in prison, Gerard is such a fucking sweetheart.” Gabe says when someone mentions having talked to Gerard and Frank recently and we all decide we need a reunion soon.

“He is such a nice guy- Frank too.” Zack agrees and then we somehow get into the topic of the new record.

“Oh, oh, guess what! We let Gabe and Bilvy listen to _Far too young to die today_.” Brendon beams. Spencer has this deer in headlights look and turns to them and says “Really? What did you think?”

Despite what people may think about the music industry, whether you rap or sing hardcore, if someone asks you an opinion about their music- you answer truthfully no matter what. We have enough people blowing smoke up our asses that we expect an honest answer from our peers.

“It was really good. I am totally digging the Vegas disco-synth on the track. The lyrics are incredible.” Gabe says, earnestly. “I told B that if the rest of the record sounds even remotely this good, there is no way you guys aren't going to hit platinum right out the gate.”

Kenny and Spencer are both smiling like lunatics and I honestly can't hide my smile either.

Spencer gets a sly look on his face and says, “Yeah, yeah, enough about the lyrics. What did you think of the drum parts?”

“That is the best fucking part about the track, Spence. I mean, I didn't even think I had to say anything...”

“You're my favorite person ever!”

“I bet you say that to all the boys, Spence!” Gabe halfheartedly accuses.

“Only the cute ones, Gabey baby.” Spencer, half way to drunk- tries to wink, but fails miserably making everyone laugh and causing Spencer to pout which is seriously adorable.

 

The sun starts to set and everyone is relaxing. Brendon brought his acoustic outside and they are drunkenly singing the entirety of _Take this to your Grave_ for whatever reason, when Bilvy gives me that look. The one that says _I thought you were going to talk to Gabe you chicken shit._ I raise my eyebrows at him and stand up  and to start picking up some of the trash that was on the table. I see him whisper something to Gabe and I am inside for about 30 seconds before Gabe has followed me inside.

“My boyfriend told me you needed to talk to me? Everything okay?”

“Let me ask you this, are you drunk right now?”

“Not even remotely, why?”

“Because I need to tell you something and I would prefer if you were sober.”

He looks at me with his head cocked sideways, “I'm all ears, man.”

“Go tell William we're gonna be on the front porch and I will meet you there in a few minutes?”

“Sure...” He sounds skeptical and as he walks out to the back deck, I take a deep breath letting it out slowly the tightness in my chest is just a dull ache now. I've had this conversation so many times lately- _why am I so fucking nervous?_

I gather what is left of my courage and make my way out to the white cedar swing on our front porch. It was  the first thing we bought when we moved in, Brendon said it reminded him of the one his grandparents had. The sentiment is really sweet- the thought of growing old together.

I hear the front door close, Gabe joins me on the swing draping his left arm over my shoulder.

“So-um…” I had this thought out in my head, I have had this conversation so many times recently but I never know how Gabe is going to react to things.

“Just say it, dude. It’s just me, your favorite asshole, Gabe.” His smile is goofy and kind and it makes my anxiety ease just a little bit.

“Alright- yea. So, after the last tour, I- um.” I clear my throat and start again, “The day after we got home from the last tour- I...”

“Dall, come on, what is it?” He scoots next to me a little and shifts his body so he is looking right at me. I look past him and stare out at the horizon for a few seconds before making eye contact.

“I was really depressed during the last tour and when we got home… I- I tried to kill myself.” I cringe as the words leave my lips. I look away from Gabe- I don’t want to see that look on his face -the one that is somewhere between disappointment and sympathy.

We sit there in silence for a minute, his mouth slightly agape, before he finally speaks. “What the actual fuck?! You’re serious?”

“Yes.” My words are barely audible. Gabe takes his arm and pulls it tighter around my shoulders and I rest my head on his.

“I don’t know what to say- William never told me.”

“I didn’t tell him until recently. I – we didn’t tell _anyone,_ actually. I have basically kept to myself and the band for the past year. I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me or judge me- not that you two would, I mean anyone in general. _It’s been really fucking hard._ ”

“How- how did you?”

Gabe doesn’t hold anything back, if he wants to know something he just asks, so I was half expecting this. I let out a slow breath before I begin to speak, “I was going to overdose on my meds, but I got home from tour and started feeling pretty sorry for myself-I got drunk and cut the shit out of my arm. I was too weak at that point to get my pills and I passed out on the bathroom floor.”

“ _Fuck_. I didn’t know you were cutting again. Who found you?”

“I had just kind of started doing it again. Um…B found me.”

“He had no clue what he was walking into did he?”

“No, not at all. We had plans that day and he came over early. The door was locked but he found the spare key I guess. I really don’t remember all of it and B doesn’t like to talk about the details much. I didn’t intend for him to find me like that. I would never have-” I feel the tears starting to prick into the corners of my eyes.

“Dall, I am so sorry you felt like that. I wish I would have known. I wish _William_ had known; he always knows what to do.” He pulls me closer and my head is resting on his chest. I can’t stop the tears from coming and I start to sob into him.

“I-I didn’t have the g-guts to tell anyone how I felt. I just wanted out. I wanted it all to stop.”

“Shhh. It’s okay; take a breath. We’ve all felt like that, man. I mean it. You know William has, you know Andy has, and you know Travie has. It fucking happens, but when it turns into the _actual act_ , that's when shit gets real. When I found out about Pete- _fucking Pete_ \- man, I got fucking trashed; _beyond wasted_ on booze and pills; Travie had to stop me from jumping off the top floor of a parking garage of the hotel where we were staying. _No one knows that by the way, including William, so let’s just keep that to ourselves._ We have all felt like that before, mijo. I am sorry you have too.”

“I won’t tell him.” I say in between hiccups.

“Hey, take a deep breath.” He says as he rubs his hand against my shoulder soothingly. “I understand why you’ve been scarce for so long now, I get it. We all understand, you know. Don’t think this changes how I see you, okay? If anything it just proves how much alike we are. Let me see it.”

“See what?”

“Give me your arm.”

“Why?”

“Because I fucking said so, Weekes. Damn!” He smirks.

I slowly extend my arm out in front of the both of us and he traces the lines with his index finger, _the same way Spencer did._ I pull my arm back towards my chest and he hugs me tighter.

“You can’t be ashamed of those, Dallon. Those scars are proof that you are stronger than you ever gave yourself credit for- probably will ever give yourself credit for. You fought that and you won. Do you realize that? Don’t ever think of that as a failure; that’s a fucking victory, Dallon.”

I look up at him and he smiles. “Those are fucking battle scars and you are around to see them. That is the only thing that is important right now. I don’t know what we would do without you. Honestly, this is hardcore tripping me out right now.”

“When I told Bilvy about it, I told him I wanted to tell you myself. I kind of wish I had just let him tell you. I don’t like seeing that look of disappointment on people’s faces.”

“Hey, I am not disappointed in you in the slightest. If anything, I am a little disappointed in myself. It’s been such a crazy year that we haven’t been in touch very much, I know that may not have changed anything but still, we shouldn’t go that long without talking to each other. Who else knows?”

“Everyone here and Pete. They are the only people that know. Pete hasn’t even told Patrick from what I was told. Although, Zack told me the other day that Patrick thought something was going on during the tour, but he dismissed it. He just thought it was Brendon and I fucking around.”

Gabe drops his head and shakes it slowly, “Patrick has spent a lot of time around Pete and he knows when things feel _“off”_.  No disrespect to Zack or anything, but he shouldn’t have dismissed Patrick so easily. I am not saying it would have changed anything, but it may have. Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you still think about doing it? About hurting yourself?”

“Not as much as I used to. It’s always there, ya know? I haven’t thought about killing myself though. I take that as a good sign. Bren thinks it’s my meds and I think it has a lot to do with him. I never really gave a shit about life before. When he and I met, I wanted to be better so that I could be with him. I think I put a lot of pressure on myself to get to that point too quickly. I would never tell him that though, he would figure out a way to blame himself for it. He already does enough of that.”

“Why does he blame himself?”

“Because he knew all about the cutting; he caught me doing it on tour and he literally glued himself to me every minute of the day so I didn’t hurt myself. Part of it was that we were attracted to each other and the other part is that he was worried about me. He has never dealt with this before and as much as it meant to me that he was trying to help, he couldn’t have really stopped it. I loved being with him 24/7 but in the back of my head I knew that he was _Brendon Urie_ ; he can get any guy or girl he wants to. I spent a lot of time in the last week of tour justifying killing myself- he thinks it’s his fault. It honestly never had anything to do with him. I know that sounds terrible but-“

“No, I get it. When Bilvy and I met, I spent a lot of time trying to “fix” him. Trying to keep everything positive and tell him how amazing he looked, that he didn’t need to lose weight, offering bites of food, and getting frustrated that he was so fucking stubborn. Blah, blah, blah. Eventually, we sat down with his therapist one day and she looked me in the eye and said “Gabe, you know this has absolutely nothing to do with you, right? This is William’s head telling him that he isn’t “good enough” or “thin enough” and while the praise and compliments are appreciated for his self-esteem and a healthy relationship; _nothing you say will actually fix him_. You need to get that in your head. You aren’t here to fix him, you are here to love and support him.” And that was the day that I told Bilvy I was in this for the long haul, I wasn’t going anywhere. Eating disorder or a missing limb, he is mine for the rest of our lives and I would be there encouraging him every step of the way, but I would never try to fix him.”

“Brendon goes with me to therapy every week. Every week he sits there and listens to me tell my therapist about how I feel like a shitty person or how I hate myself for my past. He takes everything that I hate about myself and tries so hard to make it a positive. There has been a few times where he has gotten pissed at me for being an asshole or causing a scene and I am perfectly fine with that. He takes it so hard though. Like I am this fragile human being that can’t be yelled at or I am going to go off myself. I love him so much- I just want things to be okay between us and until I get my head straight he is going to blame himself for everything that I do.”

Gabe nods, looks at me, and smiles “I’ll have a talk with B. I think maybe he needs to hear it from someone who isn’t you or your therapist. It’s okay to keep living life; it’s just something you have to deal with from time to time. It shouldn’t stop you from anything though as long as you have some rules and boundaries. Bilvy and I still have our ups and downs, ya know? I know when he is getting bad again and he’ll fight me on it of course, but I just gently remind him that he has to work it out with his therapist and I will support him in his decisions. I try not to let him feel as if I know better than he does, we’re in it together. I would love to see a day where he is completely healthy- we’re just not there yet.”

“Thank you. I know Bren is just worried. In fact, I am stopping one of my medications and he is going crazy worrying about it. ” I tell him earnestly.

He nods sympathetically, “The first time Bilvy told me he wanted to stop therapy, he weighed all of 95 pounds. He was so fucking thin that if you turned him sideways, you could barely see him. I thought at the time that it was a death sentence. I thought _‘this is where my boyfriend dies and what in the fuck am I going to do without him?’_ He basically told me that he needed to “reset” he knew what he needed to do to be healthy, but therapy was making him anxious and he couldn’t handle it anymore. I was scared shitless, but he worked so hard and in a few months, he was up 15 lbs. I have never been so happy for someone to eat a damn piece of pizza in my entire life.” He smiles fondly and pulls me in for another tight hug. “Dall, you have so many people rooting for you in this, we’re all here for you. I know that feeling is scary and I know it overtakes the rational part in your brain, but if you feel like you want to hurt yourself- like you don’t want to live, tell someone, okay? It doesn’t matter who it is. Call me at 3am and I will make sure someone is there so you are safe. You aren’t alone anymore, okay?”

“Okay” I manage to say.

“I mean it, Dall. This isn't something you have to go through alone anymore. I know you have the boys and Brendon, but Bilvy and I have you too; familia, right?”

Gabe always manages to throw little bits of Spanish into conversation and it makes me love him even more. It makes what he says sound so personal and meaningful.

I smile at him and nod, “Right.”

He knocks his elbow into mine, “You okay?”

“I think so. We should probably get back soon, Brendon worries if I leave for more than like 10 minutes at a time.” I say, only half joking.

We manage to rejoin everyone at the tail end of Brendon singing _20 dollar nosebleed._ I still have no idea why they are singing the entire Fall Out Boy catalog tonight, but it's pretty adorable. I take a seat on the other side of Bilvy and he wraps an arm around me and smiles. They finish the song and Brendon announces that he needs a “break”. He saunters over to me - he's not completely drunk, but he is definitely not feeling any pain right now.

“You left for a while. You missed Zack singing.”

“I think I could go the rest of my life without hearing that, actually. I was talking to Gabe.”

“Did it go alright?”

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

He pulls me into him and kisses me hard on the lips. “Good, I am really glad it did. You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Bren. I love you too.”

“Good! Come sing with me!” He giggles.

I roll my eyes at him and Bilvy laughs at us as Brendon pulls me over to where he left his guitar.

I raise an eyebrow and tell him, _“You know we're singing Sixteen Candles, right?”_

“You just want to fantasize about me as a dandy, don't you!?”

“Fuck yeah, I do! You were fucking hot in that video, B.”

He strums the first few chords and Bilvy smirks holding up one pinkie as if he is drinking tea. Everyone laughs and he turns to me and says.  “You start-ready?”

I nod, _“I confess, I messed up...”_

We manage to get through the majority of the song before Gabe and Bilvy decide to reenact the vampire scenes from the video- basically a lot of neck biting and making out. Gabe has no moral compass when it comes to public displays of affection, so it could be a while before they actually stop. Brendon leans back in his chair and I lean against his legs with my head on his knee and I look around at all the people in our lives that mean the most to us. The last time everyone was together was the last night of tour- a night just like this. We were all singing, laughing, joking around with the guys from Fall Out Boy- only on that night, I  thought that there would be never another night like this for me. My chest starts to tighten and my head feels a little fuzzy. I think it could be from the alcohol, but I've only had half a beer- if that.  I shrug it off and chalk it up to just being tired but then I start to feel too hot and I now realize this is a looming panic attack. I calmly and very stealthily tap Brendon's leg and let him know I need him. I get up as casually as I can and once I am inside, I practically run up the stairs to our bedroom; gasping for breath as I reach the top step; I barely make it to our bedroom before I hear Brendon pounding up the stairs behind me as I reach out for our bed.

“Dallon, you have to breathe, babe.” He places his hand on my back -I hear the fear in his voice. I think _'I am scared too Brendon'_ and my heart is beating so fast that it feels like it is going to explode out of my chest. I sink from the bed to the floor, resting my head on the bedpost.  All I can see is the blurry gray of our walls and I close my eyes because I am starting to get dizzy. Something wet is streaming down my face -either sweat or tears are- either way, I can't stop it.

“Dallon, listen to my voice, Dall. Breathe, okay? You are safe. Everything is fine. You're going to be fine in a few minutes. You need to slow your breathing down.” He is trying so hard. His voice sounds so far away like he is in a tunnel. I close my eyes again and I manage a nod. _I swear I am trying to breathe normally, my body and my brain just won't allow me to._ I have no idea how long I have been on the floor in our bedroom, but it feels like forever.

“Do you want me to-” I nod before he even finishes the sentence. He pulls my shirt up on one side and pinches my side- hard. My eyes fly open. It hurts, but it's just distracting enough to help bring me back to this side of reality.

“More?” His voice is starting to sound normal to me again. I nod, my breathing still ragged. His fingers again grabbing at the soft flesh above my hip and pinching as hard as he can on one side and then the other.  It burns and it stings but it is so much better than the tightness in my chest. My vision is starting to clear again and Brendon is still rubbing my back and whispering encouraging sentiments into my ear. My breathing has evened out and I don't feel as if I am going to die at any moment. I turn towards him slowly and he rushes forward to hug me as hard as he can.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything? Can you talk?”

I nod at him but I can't quite answer yet. It always takes me a little while to refocus.

“You're safe, Dall. You're here with me and you are safe. I love you.” He tries to smile, he looks terrified though. I don't have really bad panic attacks very often, it's usually just some mild anxiety; it always throws him off guard.

“I'm okay. I love you too.” I whisper to him. He hugs me tighter and everything in me just needs to be close to him right now.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just you.” I manage. He holds me close, carding his fingers through my hair and pushing it out of my eyes.

“Always, Dall. You will always have me.” His real smile has returned and even though I know he feels like this is all out of his realm of expertise, he really does help me through the worst of my panic attacks. He pulls away and we both sit there on the floor of our bedroom, my hands still shaking.

“Take a deep breath, babe. Do you want to talk about it?”

 _“I was sitting there singing and I started to think about the last tour. The last night on tour, we were all doing exactly this- having fun except I knew that I was going home to kill myself the next day, Bren. I knew the whole fucking time and I never told you how I felt. You never should have had to find me like that. I am so fucking sorry!”_ I barely get all my words out before he is pulling me into him again- like he is holding on for dear life.

“It's in the past, Dallon. That was so long ago and you've come so far since then. Did you and Gabe talk about that tonight?”

“A little. I- I don't really know what to say right now.” I just look up at him and his eyes are like home. Every time I look into them I feel comforted and loved. We sit there for a few more minutes and out of nowhere there is a knock on our bedroom door and I jump.

“Yeah?” Brendon calls out.

“It's William. Everything okay?”  I look at Brendon and nod letting him know it's okay to open the door, My tears have mostly just turned into hiccups and sniffles now anyways.

He opens the door slowly and William looks at Brendon and then me sitting on the floor and he has already figured out what is going on before either of us can tell him.

“Panic attack?”

“Yeah. He's going to be ok. Just scared the both of us a little.”

“I can imagine. We can all get out of your hair if you'd like, I can take Gabe to a hotel tonight if you want-so you two can have some quiet?” William always has a plan.

“No. It's fine, Bilvy. I just need a few minutes and we'll be back out. Don't say anything to anyone, okay?” I look up at him and he is staring at me with those _sympathetic William_ eyes.

“Sure. No problem, but I am giving you a hug first, cool?”

I roll my eyes at him but he comes over and kneels next to me on the floor, wrapping his skinny arms around me tightly.

He whispers into my ear, “Stay in your safe place, Dall, okay?” I get goosebumps. He used to say that to me when he knew I was going to cut, when he would try to stop me and I would tell him how badly I needed to do it. He and I would argue about it- I almost always won though. He knew he was powerless against my demons, but he would always tell me to stay in my “safe place”. It was more so a way for him to tell me to not go too deep or not to cut too much- to try to get rid of the dark thoughts in my head before they overtake me completely. I haven't heard it in so long- its almost haunting.

“Yeah. I will.”

He leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. Brendon sits back down on the floor next to me eyeing me.

“I'm fine, B. We can go back out there now.”

“Like hell you are.”

“Seriously, I am better. I guess it was just stress and everything building up. I am really fine, I promise.”

“What did Bilvy whisper to you?”

“He told me to stay in my safe place.”

“What does that mean?”

I sigh. I guess it's easier just to tell him. “It- it used to mean not to cut too deep or cut too much. It was more of endearment from him. I guess now it means to get rid of negative thoughts?”

He looks down and his hands and slowly raises his head to make eye contact with me, “Do you want to hurt yourself right now?” His voice is quiet as if he is afraid of the answer.

“No, babe. I don't okay? It was just a panic attack. I was thinking too much- it just kind of happened. Bilvy was just saying what he thought was what I needed to hear. He doesn't have some psychic link to my brain as much as you might think he does.”

“Do you want your anxiety meds?” He is grasping for some sort of miracle here and he isn't going to find it. The last thing I want to do is take more medication.

“Not particularly, no. I still want to talk to our friends without slurring my words.” I smirk.

“They wouldn't know the difference anyways, they are all shitfaced. Except for Gabe which is kinda odd.”

“Bren, we're going back out to sit and talk _with our band and our friends._ Let's go.” I say defiantly.  He reluctantly stands up and helps me to a standing position. I start to walk towards the door and he grabs my hand pulling me back to him and into his tight embrace.

“You're sure you are okay?” He asks as he mouths at my neck.

“Yes, Babe.” I kiss him and pull him with me out of our bedroom and down the stairs before he tries to stop me again. We find our way back to the rest of the group and I really don't think anyone knew we were missing besides Bilvy and Gabe. I take a seat next to Gabe who immediately throws his arm around me and Brendon nods in his direction before going to see what Spencer and Kenny are up to.

“You've got this, Dall.” Gabe says encouragingly, I only wish I could believe him.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon is more than a little upset when William decides to bring up the past...

The rest of the guys end up leaving around 2am when they are all sober enough to drive home. Gabe, Bilvy, Brendon, and I stay up talking until around 4 am and we all pass out in the living room sprawled out on the floor. I am the first to wake up around 9 and I tap William on the shoulder to wake him up. Brendon and Gabe can sleep a little longer.

“Wake the fuck up, Bill, jeez!” I laugh as I poke him again.

“Why in the fuck are you poking at me?” He grumbles and lazily smacks at my hand. I forgot he wasn't much of a morning person.

“Get up, lazy ass. Let's go talk for a while.”

“Fine.” He grumbles and I kiss him on the cheek just to make him smile.

“That's not going to make me any happier ya know.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. Coffee?” I offer.

“Please. Do you need to take your meds?” He knows Brendon usually is up early to make me take them.

“I'll take them later. After last night, I can use a few hours reprieve from them before Brendon wakes up in a panic over it.” I laugh, Bilvy doesn't think it's very funny though. I give him a confused look.

“You know better than to fuck with your medication schedules, Dall. Isn't that what kinda led everything to where you are today?” I can tell he is saying this carefully so as not to offend me.

“Yes, but a few hours wont matter that much, _I assure you_. Get your coffee and let's go out onto the porch.” I usher him out the front door quietly and I very carefully close it as to not wake Brendon and Gabe who are still passed out on the living room floor- they are really cute when they are sleeping.

The two of us sit on the swing, sipping our coffee and watch the haze of the morning start to burn off a little at a time.

“Are we going to talk about it?” He asks me rather casually.

“Talk about what?”

“What triggered your panic attack last night?” He says shifting towards me and looking me dead in the eyes.

I avert my eyes away from his, “Do we have to?”

“Yeah, I would prefer if you did, I think I know why, but I kind of want to hear it from you. So...”

I sigh, loudly and over dramatically just so he knows that I think this is bullshit, “Having everyone around and having a good time; singing, laughing. It reminded me of the last night of tour. The night before I tried to kill myself. I didn't think I would have any more nights like that. It just over whelmed me. That's all.”

“That's pretty much what I thought. I knew it had to do with everyone being there. I just wanted to know for sure. Did you tell B?”

“Yes, _mom_. I did.” I scoff at him-laughing.

“You can be such a little bitch in the morning!” He retaliates, “I still love you and I am glad you are ok though.”

“Love you too, man. I am really glad you guys are here.”

“I'm glad we're here too. Gabe was in Uruguay so long- I missed him so fucking much, but we needed this. We needed to be around friends for a while.”

“Everything okay between you and Gabe?” I ask a little timidly- half of me doesn't really want to know the answer.

“Oh. Oh, yeah! See, Gabe is trying really hard to get Cobra back up and touring again and I am starting to do more solo stuff, we both really just miss free time. We missed hanging with everyone and I think when I told Gabe that we should come and see you guys that he sensed that something was up, ya know?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I tried to be super subtle about it-”

“William Beckett, you couldn't be subtle if your fucking life depended on it!” I tease him-laughing.

“Oh, fuck you!” He says, glaring at me, “I can- sometimes! But anyways, yeah I think he knew something was going on. The whole way here he kept asking me if 'you two were okay', 'did I know something' and it was really hard to keep it from him- I knew you needed to tell him though.”

“He was really sweet about all of it. Of course, I didn't really expect anything less- I mean with the whole Pete thing, I just didn't know how to approach it. He is really only the second person I have told. Everyone else already knew, I just had to make amends.”

“How are you handling all of the studio stuff?”

“I have my days where it's way harder to focus, but I think we're getting there. After we did the first track, it all came back. Which is some sort of _miracle_ because I am pretty sure we all thought this was going to be another cabin album.”

“That shit _still_ hasn't seen the light of day?” He smirks, taking a sip of his coffee.

“ _I've_ never even heard it. Brendon keeps it hidden- he wants nothing to do with it. We're going to be in our nineties and he still won't let anyone hear it- I don't know why he doesn't just destroy it, to be completely honest.”

William laughs and from inside the house I can hear movement. Probably Brendon trying to figure out where we wondered off to. And as if on cue, Brendon opens the front door and peers out like a worried mother through the glass storm door. I smile and wave to him and he grins back at me; he always has been a morning person. I point to my cup of coffee and he nods disappearing back into the house only to return a few minutes later with a fresh cup of coffee, Gabe, and my pills. I don't even fight him on it. I just swallow them down as he hands them to me. I'd rather not have this discussion in front of them. It's pointless anyways since I won't be taking one of them for much longer.

Gabe however, has decided it's time to have a discussion about all of this. Why he picked 10am on a Sunday is beyond me.

“What are you taking?”

“Gabe, you are so rude!” William admonishes him.

“Hey, it's fine. I am taking Depakote and Doxepin.- for now.”

William looks at me bewildered.“For now?”

“Dallon is going to _slowly_ ween from his Depakote and stay on his Doxepin. We're going to see if that helps him feel better. He still has medication he can take for anxiety and for sleep- _not that he ever uses it._ ” Brendon tells them and I almost tear up because this is the first time he has really embraced the idea of me stopping it. He and I link fingers and he rubs his thumb against my hand.

“She actually agreed to it? When are you doing all of this?” I can tell that William is borderline curious and nervous all at the same time.

“In a week or so. It's no big deal, Bilvy. I've done it before and you know it.” I remind him gently.

“ _Yeah, I remember.”_ He says solemnly.

“Why did you say it like that? It went fine last time!” I protest.

“Dall, do you seriously not remember or are you fucking with me?”

I wrack my brain trying to remember what in the hell he is talking about and suddenly it hits me.

“That had nothing to do with it, Bill. That was a long time ago.”

“Actually, it had _everything_ to do with it. You just choose to substitute it with whatever warped reality you are remembering.”

The memory floods back and I remember it now. I remember being pissed off and deciding to just stop my Prozac one day- flushing the remainder down the toilet. I also remember the night in Phoenix when Bilvy held onto me all night so I wouldn't hurt myself. I was in a really bad place then. The fact that he is bringing all of this up right now is starting to pissing me off.

“ _Drop it.”_ I warn him through gritted teeth. Brendon looks at me and then back at William.

_Fuck it, if he wants to go there we can._

“So, you _do_ remember?”

I scrub a hand over my face slowly, “I guess if we are going there; yes, I do fucking remember! Is there a reason you want to relive that right now or can we please just fucking drop it?”

“Dallon, there is no reason to get pissy.” Brendon says to me. I shoot him an irritated look. His eyes are wide and it's a clear warning from him that I need to chill out, but I feel the need to defend myself this morning – _clearly, no one else is_. Best friend or not, he didn't need to bring it up.

“No! _I_ want to know why William is bringing up the past when it's _very evident_ that it is something I am trying to get away from! You know what, let's just throw all this out into the open while we're talking about it since _William_ has decided that I have to relive my past. Yes, I stopped the Prozac cold turkey- it wasn't one of my best decisions. I had some pretty bad days following- one in particular where we were in Phoenix and Bilvy had to _physically stop me_ from hurting myself. Is that what you wanted me to say? _Was that a good enough synopsis or do you care to elaborate?_ Actually, fuck it- you can all sit here and talk about how _fucked up_ I am, I'm going upstairs.”

“Dall, wait-” Brendon tries to say, but I am already unclasping my hand from his, pulling open the door and slamming it behind me. I climb the stairs to our bedroom, slamming that door too- just for good measure. I briefly think about locking it- barricading myself in my bedroom until they give up or have to break the door down; I decide against it. I have caused enough drama. My mind is racing right now and I sit down on the edge of the bed to focus on my breathing. I know in the back of my mind that I shouldn't have gotten so pissed at William, but reliving my past is something that I would rather not do. I honestly thought he understood that. I stand and pace back and forth a few times. I am mentally frustrated and I want to scream at how hard I am trying to get my brain to chill out so I can just think for a few minutes. Having a million thoughts flying through your brain is discouraging to say the least. I nervously wring my hands together and sit on the bed again. I pull myself back against the headboard hugging my knees as I pull them up to my chest. What I am feeling isn't really a panic attack, just this really overwhelming feeling of knowing that I just caused a scene in front of my friends over seemingly nothing. I take a deep breath and I feel the hot tears start to slide down my face- I let them fall gracelessly onto my arms as I quietly sob to myself. For once, in a very long time, I am feeling completely lost within myself and that alone is scaring me. My eyes are stinging and tired as I wipe them with the heal of my hand; I have no idea how long I have been up here crying to myself when I hear a very faint knock on the door.

I try to speak and nothing comes out, I clear my throat, “Y-yeah.” I answer back trying to sound as if I wasn't at all crying in my bedroom.

“Can I come in? It's Gabe.” I freeze. Not exactly who I expected. Knowing Gabe though, he is going to come in anyways, I might as well let him.

“Sure. Why not?” I say softly. The door opens slowly and he carefully makes his way into the room, closing the door behind him. He stands near the doorway for a few seconds and then walks over to the bed, climbing in next to me.

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” His voice is soft and soothing. He lays in front of me staring at me, his hair still a mess from sleeping on the living room floor.

“No?” I smile weakly.

“No? Not really the answer I was looking for-”

“I got a little frustrated at William. I am trying really hard to stop living in my past and the first thing he does is bring it up. There was no need for him to do that. I love him, but-”

“But sometimes you want to smack him?” Gabe finishes my sentence- laughing.

“Yes. I know he thinks he is doing a good thing by trying to make sure Brendon knows what happened in the past- I just wasn't ready to tell him. What I am doing- when I stop this medicine, it's controlled. It's stopping it gradually. It is nothing like what I did before. I know he is worried, but it took me so long to get Bren to agree with this. I don't want him to back out of it.”

“William means well. I think, honestly, that he is a little frustrated too. Dall, he wants you to feel better, he wants you to stay in this happy place. However, he has seen you at your worst and he knows it's a real possibility that something could happen. He is just too cautious for his own good sometimes.”

I sigh and lay down next to Gabe. “I just want everyone to trust me. I feel like everyone is just waiting for me to fail. It's a hard place to be in because I never know if I am doing the right thing.” 

In true Gabe fashion, he rolls his eyes at me. “No one is waiting for you to fail, Dall. Trust me.” 

“Maybe _I_ am waiting for me to fail.” I mumble.

“I'm sorry, what? I know you don't believe that.” He says bluntly. 

“ _I am a failure, Gabe._ Look at the facts! I couldn't even- never mind. ” 

“You couldn't what? You couldn't fucking kill yourself? Good! Thank fucking god, you failed at that, Dall! I don't ever want to hear you say that again. Where is all of this coming from?”

I sigh and lay my head down on my outstretched arm in front of me. “Just having a bad head-space day I guess. I am really sorry. I am sure this isn't how you imagined your trip out here to be.”

“Dall, should I be worried about you right now?” His tone is serious, and ' _serious Gabe'_ doesn't happen very often.

“Because I say stupid shit sometimes to hide the fact that I am embarrassed that everyone has to worry so much about me? No. You shouldn't be worried, Gabe. I am a boy who is broken and no one knows how to fix me- myself included.”

“Yeah. That didn't really help your case, buddy.” He laughs- almost nervously.

“Let me put it to you this way, you know when you are out on tour and you just wish you were home in your own bed, but when you get home you wish you were out on tour?”

“Uh huh.”

“That's how I feel _all the time_. I am never comfortable with myself; I never know exactly where I need to be.”

He stares at me for a few seconds before smirking, “That's a little deep, man.”

I smile at him because Gabe is a sarcastic little shit and I love him to death for it. 

“I am serious. I got close with the meds, but they just make me numb for the most part. They turn my emotions on and off at the worst times.” 

“Like right now?” 

I smack him lightly on the shoulder, “Yes, fucker, like right now.” 

“Maybe you should talk to Pete about this? He went through a lot of this shit before he stopped taking medication altogether. It was pretty hard on him for a long time, but he finally found a happy niche in life. Maybe he has the missing piece to the puzzle that we don't see?” 

“Going to my boss about my mental health issues is not exactly a smart idea is it?”

“Dallon, it's Pete for Christs sake- he isn't going to think any less of you. Pete is the _patron saint of fucking up_ and somehow after all of it, he has come out smelling like roses- for the most part at least. I can text him if you want?”

“I don't know. Maybe. Not right now though.” I tell him, but we both know I probably won't talk to Pete about any of this.

He reaches over and rubs my back. It's ridiculous how calming that is. I let myself sink a little further into the bed.

“I can do it whenever you want. Okay? Listen to me though, just tell people how you are feeling, don't keep it bottled up. Got it?” 

“I know.” I tell him and I am suddenly exhausted. My eyes are so tired even though I have only been up for 2 hours. 

“Why don't you take a nap for a little while?” He says still rubbing my back. 

“Yeah.” I mumble and that's the last thing I remember saying to him before my brain shuts down and let's me stumble into sleep.

 

I wake with a start and my blurry eyes read the alarm clock as 1pm. _1pm?- fuck!_ I fell asleep for over _three_ hours. I start to scramble to get up.

“Whoa! You're alright. You just took a nap, Dall.” It's Brendon, sitting up in bed next to me reading a book.

“Did Gabe drug me? Why in the fuck am I taking a nap at one in the afternoon?” I ask him carefully. 

He presses a kiss to my forehead, “Because I think your brain finally decided it needed a break, Dall. No sleep plus stress plus your medication, it was bound to happen.” 

“Oh.” Is all I say because I have a sneaking suspicion that he is right. “Is William mad at me? Did they go home?”

“No. Of course he isn't mad at you! They just went with Spencer and Kenny for a few hours; I figured I would catch up on some reading and cuddle with my boyfriend.” He smiles at me as if he isn't in fact babysitting me. I tilt my head at him, “I didn't want you to wake up alone, babe. That's all.” He says as if he can read my thoughts. I crawl back under the covers and snuggle close into his side. He wraps his arm around my shoulder pulling me even closer and I lay my head on his chest.

“It's alright, I know Gabe probably told you what we were talking about.”

“A little. He said it was mostly “strictly confidential” but that I should ' _go take a nap with my boyfriend who needs me'._ ”

I look up to him through my eyelashes and he kisses the top of my head. “I will always need you, Bren.”

“The feeling is mutual.” He says and a devilish grin spreads over his face, “Now, go back to sleep for a little bit because I want to fuck you until you scream before the boys get back and I need you to have a little more energy than that.”

I laugh, close my eyes, and shudder out a shaky breath just thinking about it.

 

He wakes me from behind with a gentle nudge. “Wake up, baby. “ He whispers into my ear as his arm pulls me closer to his chest. He is fully hard and I am slowly getting there as his hand snakes into the front of my pajama pants pulling them down over my hips; I shimmy them the rest of the way off to free my legs. Brendon is pressing small kisses into the skin above my collar bone and running his calloused fingers down my side. I turn my head slightly and his soft, full lips collide with mine as he licks his way into my mouth. It's hot and wet and he is biting my lip in a way that makes me almost instantly hard.

“I want to fuck you so hard, baby.” He whispers as he mouths and licks at my neck. “I want you screaming my name so loudly the neighbors will hear you. Get on your hands and knees, Dall.”

He climbs to the end of the bed as I raise up to my hands and knees and I hear the click of the cap from the bottle of lube. Seconds later, I feel his fingers teasing my hole; rubbing light circles before he carefully enters me. His fingers are sliding in and out making me breathe a little heavier and soon he is fucking me with his fingers, painfully slow and I am needy with want as push back just to get some friction.

It starts to become a little too much- _I need him filling me._ _“_ Bren, please?” I beg, as his fingers press into me again, grazing my prostate and sending a bolt of pleasure up my entire body.

“That's right, baby. Beg me for my cock. Tell me how much you need it.” He purrs and his voice washes over me like sex personified.

“B-Bren. Fuck. Oh, Fuck! I need you fucking me, right fucking now! I need you in me now, please?” I plead with him.

“Mmmm, maybe since you asked so nicely.” He says, his voice low and sexy. His slowly pulls his fingers out of me and I hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper and the click of the lube bottle again. I feel his weight shift on the bed behind me and then his hand is on my lower back. 

“God, you look so fucking gorgeous from this angle. I could fuck you all day if you'd let me.” 

“ _Bren._ Bren, fuck me hard, please.” I almost whine and it's all that he needs as I feel the head of his cock entering me and I adjust around him as he presses into me. He lingers for a minute before he starts to move and it's ridiculously sinful how amazing he feels.

“Fuck, Dall. You are so fucking tight. _You are always so tight for me._ ” He pants, slamming into me again. His cock hitting my prostate dead on every single time. His fingers are digging deep into my hips and I am just on this side of pleasure overload when he reaches around to grab my cock, starting to stroke me.

“Oh, Fuck. Fuck.” Is all I can manage and I lose myself in the wet slide of him fucking me as if his life were on the line.

“Come for me, Dall. Scream my fucking name.” He grunts.

“Brendon! Oh, god.”

And that does it for me; his domineering persona pulls me right over the edge and I come loud and messy on the bed beneath me as he fucks me through my orgasm until I am over-sensitive and moaning. He follows suit a minute later and starts to still inside me; his hands keeping him balanced on my sweat slicked back as he slides out of me and I collapse onto the bed.

He lays next to me attempting to pull oxygen into his lungs and I take my hand and place it in his. He may not always know what's going on in my brain, but he always knows how to fuck me to make me forget my worries for awhile.

“We better get cleaned up before the boys get back.” I say, when his breathing is normal again. I look at him and he bites his lip.

“I'd really rather fuck you again.”

“Mmm there is always later, babe. Besides, I am pretty sure Bill and Gabe don't want to walk in on us fucking.”

“I suppose you're right, Gabe would probably want to join in.” A small laugh escaping his lips.

“I think he reserves threesomes only for when he is on tour and I don't _really_ want to see Gabe naked anymore than I am forced to, to be honest. He _is_ my Best Friend's boyfriend.”

He hums in agreement and then says, “Alright, alright. Let's get dressed- _I guess._ ”

He hands me my pants and I just shake my head at him. It's 3pm and I am not even dressed yet.

“Is it bad that I just want to wear my pajamas the rest of the day?”

“Is this a depression thing or a laziness thing?” He asks, one eyebrow cocked into a quizzical expression.

I drop my head down and sigh, “Pure fucking laziness, babe.”

“Then, yes. Put on some damn pants and come with me downstairs.”

“Wait- if I had said it was depression you would have let me wear them; no questions asked?” I laugh.

“No, but I would have been nicer about telling you to put your fucking pants on.” He says with small giggle. I throw a pillow at him.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Speaking of which, we are going to talk about what happened earlier.”

“Nope.” I say, emphatically.

“Dallon, don't start that bullshit. We really should talk about it.”

“I said everything I needed to say. You know all about Phoenix and now I don't ever have to bring it up again. I was stupid enough to stop my meds and at the time I didn't really care what happened to me. Luckily, William did. He was there for me when I felt like I had literally no one. He made sure I was safe and that I wouldn't hurt myself. There is nothing more that needs to be said except an apology to William for me acting like an asshole earlier.”

“Alright. Fair enough. Please don't think you have to keep that shit from me though. I am not going to run off and tell your therapist every time you talk about your past or you have a bad day. I am not against you; I just want you to even out and feel better. That is my only intention, okay?”

I look at him and he is giving me the puppy-dog eyes. Those super adorable ' _melt my heart every time_ '- eyes and I reach over and hug him tightly. “Okay, Bren. Okay.”

 

 

We're downstairs picking up the living room after our makeshift slumber party when my phone buzzes loudly on the kitchen counter; Brendon grabs it- waving it at me.

“Who is it?”

“William.”

“What's it say?”

He rolls his eyes at me and sets my phone down on the counter, “Just come and get your phone you big baby. He isn't mad at you.“

“He probably should be.” I mutter, grabbing my phone from the counter.

 

 _From Bilvy_ : _Are you okay? I was worried about you._

 

I groan internally and drop my head down. I always seem to worry people.

“Well?” Brendon asks sounding a little annoyed. I read the text aloud and sigh.

“He is your best friend, babe, of course he is worried. He is just looking out for you, ya know?”

I start to tap out a reply and decide to call him instead; he answers on the second ring.

“Hey, Dall. Um- I am really sorry.” He says and I know it's sincere.

“You did what you had to do, right? I am the one that should be apologizing. Hey- when are you guys going to be back at the house?”

“In about an hour probably.”

“Good. No worries, okay? We'll talk when you get back.”

“Okay. See you in a little bit. Bye”

“Bye.” I say hanging up the phone. Brendon comes up behind me his arms wrapping around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder.

“All good?”

“It will be; I think. I'll talk to Bill when they get back.”

“I am sure it's going to work out fine.” He reassures me.

The voice in my head is screaming _'you fucked this up, Dallon.'_ , but what I say out loud is,“Right.”

 

The boys are back within the hour bringing Spencer and Kenny with them; they all reconvene in our living room. The apparent topic of discussion being the new talent on Pete's label. Ten minutes in and William looks bored to tears; I motion to him to go with me to to the music room so we can talk.

“Those four could gossip about other bands for days on end.” He says as I close the door behind us.

“They are worse than teenage girls.” I agree. We sit and stare at each other from opposite ends of the couch. William picks at some imaginary fuzz on his jeans and I figure one of us has to break the silence eventually, it might as well be me.

“I am really sorry about this morning. I really didn't mean to be so defensive. My head was all sorts of places today. Forgive me?”

“It's alright. Yes, of course I forgive you. It wasn't really my place to bring it up, but I really thought Brendon should know. I didn't mean for it to sound so cold hearted or mean.”

“I get that, but what I am doing now is controlled and it's nothing like what I did before. You don't have to worry so much about me, okay?”

“Dall, I am always going to worry about you, just like you worry about me.”

“True. I am pretty proud of you though, man. You look so healthy! Last time I saw you- well, you were a little too thin.”

“It's not easy. I have my days where I start to slip back and Gabe is there to help me. He needs to take a lot more credit than he does for it; I really don't want to even think about where I would be without him. He is worried about when I go back on the road and tour that I am going to get bad again, I can't promise anything, but I know I am not where I was a few years ago and that eases his anxiety a little.”

I nod sympathetically, “Brendon is worried about me for when we start to tour again too. He isn't sure I can handle it. Zack is a little stressed out about it too. I really think it will be alright because Brendon will be there, the guys are all there- but I really don't know anymore.”

“You're going to be fine. I assure you.” His voice low and soothing.

I am actually a little surprised that he says this, “You think?”

“I _know_. You just need to get back into the rhythm of things. Get back out into the public before you start touring so it isn't such a shock to your system. The fans will always love you, good or bad; they always have your back. Taking time to ease back into it will help you immensely.”

I nod and ponder what he just said. The fans, I haven't even thought about what I am going to say. My heart flutters a little at the thought. The last thing I want to do is leave it open-ended; I don't want there to be any sort of speculation.

I must have spaced out for a second because William taps my arm, “Whatcha thinkin', Dall?”

“How am I going to explain this to the fans? I haven't given a lot of thought to it; I just really don't want there to be rumors, ya know?”

“There will always be rumors. You can't escape that. You'll know what to say when the time comes. There is no need to stress about it now. Get the record done, get the press out of the way, and then when it's time to tour you can figure it out.”

“Right. Yeah, we really should get the record done first.” I laugh, “We are so fucking close though. B is so excited about it.”

“I can tell. Spencer and Gabe were talking about it this afternoon- sounds like it is going to be really amazing.” He grins and I can't help but grin back.

“I have a really good feeling about it. It doesn't even come close to the last record. It has such a special place in Brendon's heart already. Honestly, it feels like starting over- a breath of fresh air.”

“The resurrection of the genre-less.” He laughs.

I shake my head, “You have no idea.”

 


	29. Chapter 29

Brendon and Gabe are out causing some sort of havoc on Las Vegas; William and I elected to stay back at the house. We're laying on the couches in the living room in our pajamas watching a movie when William casually says, “So, I was thinking that Gabe and I might stay a little longer.”

I turn and look at him surprised, “Really?”

“Yeah. We just miss you guys and it's nice being around everyone. Neither of us really have anywhere we have to be next week, so we thought we could stick around a little longer- if that's alright with you guys?”

“Of course it's ok with us! I was thinking this morning about how you were leaving in a few days and I was starting to miss you already.” I tell him sincerely.

“Good! I'll tell Gabe to change the tickets in the morning.” He says with a smile.

As much as I love Bilvy and Gabe I think I know the real reason for their extended stay. I contemplate leaving the subject alone but my curiosity will always get the best of me. “Are you doing this because I was going to start weening off my meds next week?”

He looks at me incredulously, “Dallon, come on, we just want to hang out with you guys.” I would have believed him too if he hadn't twitched his nose- _a telltale sign that he is lying._

“Ok, Thumper. You're nose is twitching though-”

“Is not!” He protests throwing his hands over his face laughing. “Ok, fine! I wasn't _really_ lying though. I do want to hang out more. I just figured it might be easier on you if you had more support here. That's all.”

“Why couldn't you have just said that then?”

“Because you would tell me no. You would say that you were fine and that you and Brendon and the guys can handle it. Don't get me wrong, I am sure that they can, but I- _we_ would like to be here for you too.” He sits up on the couch and shrugs his shoulders.

I sigh. “You already planned this and Brendon knew about it already, right?” I ask.

“Gabe talked to him about it this morning, actually. It was Gabe's idea.” He says sheepishly.

“Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. If me being an emotional wreck is how you two want to spend the next week, far be it from me to stop you.”

“I don't actually think it is going to be _that_ bad, I just want to be here for you since I haven't been for the past year.”

He crosses the room and sits next to me on the couch throwing his arm around my shoulder. “Let me be here for you this time, okay?”

“Alright, alright. Everyone is invited to my pity party.” I smirk.

William rolls his eyes, “You are such an idiot, Dallon.”

“It's all part of my charm.” I say smugly.

We settle back into our respective spots and resume the movie. I reach over to the side table and grab my glass of water, my shirt rides up just slightly on my side.

“What the fuck are those?”

I look at him confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Those fucking purple bruises on your side, Dallon! Are you hurting yourself?” He asks, his eyes wide.

Fuck! I pull my shirt back down, “It's nothing, don't worry about it, Bill.” I tell him casually. Although, who am I kidding, he isn't going to back down from this.

“Dallon, are you fucking hurting yourself?”

How in the hell do I explain this to him without making Brendon and myself sound crazier than I already feel?

“No. I am not.” I say, calmly.

His eyes go wide and I can tell I am about to get a lecture from William Beckett. “Explain it then. Because, it sure as shit looks like you are!” His voice is getting more accusative and I am sure that he is just one phone call away from trying to tattle on me to Brendon.

“It's an alternative to cutting. It centers me- brings me back to reality and helps me focus again.”

He sighs and drops his head down, “You just lied to me! You told me you weren't hurting yourself!”

“I'm not.” I say, honestly.

He rolls his eyes and huffs out a breath. “I can see that you have multiple bruises; they don't just appear by magic, Dall.”

“I am not hurting myself. Um, Brendon is.” I say it fast, like pulling off a band aid.

“I'm sorry- _what?_ ” He says, shaking his head.

“I- um, I have Brendon do it to me. I kind of discovered it by accident and it works. It's distracting enough that I don't feel as if I need to hurt myself and the endorphin rush from the pain helps to bring me back from panicking. _I know it's weird._ It doesn't happen often and he won't do it unless I ask him or he confirms it's what I want. It's not a sex thing, it's literally just helps me.”

He stares at me for about thirty seconds before he says “I don't even know what to say to that.”

“Let's just keep it to ourselves, please? Brendon already feels weird about it and I honestly didn't even know those bruises were there. He will probably flip his shit when he sees them anyways.”

“Sure. No problem. It helps though?”

“It does. I haven't hurt myself in almost a year, Bilvy. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to sometimes. It just takes away the urge to do it. I don't know how else to explain it.”

He nods and sits back on the couch a little bit and cocks his head to one side. “It may have been a little easier to understand if you would have just said it was a sex thing.” He says smirking.

“I'll keep that in mind in case someone else asks.” I laugh. “Let's hope that doesn't happen though. You were all ready to rat me out to Brendon though, weren't you?”

“If I thought you were hurting yourself, yes. I would have talked to Brendon about it.” He says seriously.

“You wouldn't come to me first for an explanation? You would just go directly to B about it?”

“Dallon, we really don't need to talk about this. It's not going to happen, right?”

“Fine, _hypothetically_ \- just answer my question.”

“ _Hypothetically_ , I would come to you first and then go to Brendon.”

“Do you think that I wouldn't say something to him if I was?” I ask.

“I think, that in the past, you used everything you could think of to make sure that no one knew. Even though B sees you more intimately than everyone else does, it is still possible to hide it and I would want him to know.”

“I see.” I say because, I never thought about that. Brendon has really only seen me hurt myself twice. The night on the bus and the day after tour. Bilvy is right, I could probably hide it for awhile if I needed to.

My brain drifts for a moment or two because now I am thinking about it- Shinny blades and the crimson droplets that appear after the first stinging pass. It was never about the pain, it was always about the satisfaction that I had control over something in my life. It is that very control that I don't have anymore and that is something that is tempting enough to find again if I had the chance. I snap back into reality when I realize that Bilvy is pulling my hand away from my arm.

“Dall?”

“Sorry. I was daydreaming.” I say with a small laugh.

“You were digging your fingernails into your wrist.” He almost whispers. I look down to see four pale red half moon shaped marks on my right wrist. I wasn't even aware that I was doing that.

“Oh. Um, I just got caught up in my head. That's all.” I take a breath in and let it out as slow as possible.

He tilts his head at me and sighs, “What is going on in that head of yours?”

“Usually not much. I promise it's not a big deal. I just got lost in my head, no worries, dude. Okay?”

He nods and I know that he is just storing it all away. Waiting for the perfect time to confront Brendon about my behavior. It really wasn't anything, if I were trying to hurt myself, I certainly wouldn't do it with anyone else around. It's definitely not a discussion I want to have right now and especially without Brendon to at least have my back.

“I am fine Bilvy, honest. Look, lay down with me and we will finish the movie, okay?” I say looking straight into his eyes.

“Yeah, alright.” He says a little uneasy but he lays down on the other end on the couch, our legs tangled together. I grab the blanket from the back of the couch and cover us both. He smiles at me and we finish watching the movie in silence although, the weight of what we talked about is still lingering heavily in the room.

It's near 11:30 pm when Gabe and Brendon stumble through the door laughing loudly. I quickly shush them and point to William who is fast asleep on the couch. Gabe smiles fondly and kisses him lightly on the forehead.

Brendon looks at me and laughs."You are such a sucker for some cuddles, Dallon.”

“It's not _really_ cuddling,“ I whisper to him, “We were watching a movie and he fell asleep.”

“Oh, I see.” He says, still laughing. I shush him once again and he quiets as he and Gabe sit next to each other on the other couch.

“Did you two have fun?” I ask quietly.

“Yeah. We ran into some old friends. We'll talk about it tomorrow.” Gabe says with a smirk that can only mean they got themselves into trouble somehow.

I just shake my head and look at Brendon who smiles slyly and holds his hands up in surrender. “I'm sure we will.” I tell him.

Just then, William stirs and turns over, smiling widely when he sees Gabe. “Missed you, Gabey.” He says in a sleepy voice.

“Missed you too.” Gabe says as he stands to make his way to the couch, “Ready for bed?” William nods and holds his arms out for Gabe help him stand. They wave goodnight as they head down the hall to the guest bedroom. Brendon takes William's spot on the couch and curls into my side.

“Did you and William have a good night?” He asks with a yawn.

“Yeah. We just laid around and watched TV. Nothing special.” I tell him. “You and Gabe had fun?”

“Yes. It's nice having them here. Did William tell you they are going to stay longer?” He looks at me and I can't tell if his eyes are hopeful or fearful.

I nod as I comb my fingers through his hair. “He did. It will be nice to have them around.“ I figure this isn't a conversation we need to have at almost midnight so I leave it at that and he nods snuggling further into my side.

“Come on, Bren. Let's go upstairs to bed. No use sleeping on the couch.” I tell him as I try to move him into a sitting position.

“You're really comfy though.”

I laugh, “I am nowhere _near_ as comfy as our bed though, come on.” We both climb off of the couch and I stop to fold the blanket placing it back onto the arm. Brendon clicks the lights off and we head up the stairs to our bedroom. I barely have the door closed behind us when he says “You know, I thought you would be upset about the reason that they are staying longer.”

“I'm not mad. I appreciate that they care. It's all going to be fine though, I have no worries about any of this.” I say I getting into bed, pulling the covers up around me.

He turns off the light and climbs into bed next to me placing a sweet kiss on my lips as he cuddles in close. “Of course it's going to be fine, Dallon.”

“Goodnight, Baby.” I whisper into his ear.

“Goodnight, Dall.”

Brendon is snoring for at least ten minutes when I remember I didn't charge my phone. I turn over to plug my phone in when it starts to vibrate in my hand. I check the caller ID- it's Pete.

_I am going to kill Gabe when he wakes up in the morning._

I slide my finger across the screen and whisper “Hey Pete, give me a minute.” As I quietly climb out of bed and tiptoe to the door as silently as possible, closing it behind me once I am in the hallway.

“Sorry, Brendon is sleeping; I didn't want to wake him up.” I say casually, pretending that I have no idea what he is calling about. “What's up?”

“Not much, I figured you would still be up.” He says laughing.

“Yeah, insomnia is still alive and kicking around here. So, you just called to talk to me about my sleeping habits, Wentz?”

He sighs, “I figured it would be the only time we could talk without everyone else around.”

“Let me guess, Gabe text you?” I say amused.

He sighs. “Of fucking course Gabanti text me. He loves you dude, he is just worried.”

“Everybody is worried, Pete. It's been _many, many_ months now- I think they can stop worrying.” I say with a chuckle as I make my way back downstairs so I don't wake anyone up.

“Dallon, I have spent the better part of the past decade with Patrick _glued_ to me 24/7; they _never_ forget and they will _never_ stop worrying. That's how you know they love you, dude.” He huffs into the phone.

“I know they love me, man. I am not _completely_ devoid of emotions and how they work. I just feel like they can cut me a little slack is all. Everyone is flipping out over stupid shit, blaming themselves- it's ridiculous how out of control this still is.” I curl up on the couch and rest my head against the arm using the folded blanket as a makeshift pillow.

“It takes time for everyone to come to terms with it. They are going to blame themselves, blame each other, but they don't want to blame _you_  because they think it will just set you off and you'll try to do it again. It's a vicious cycle, but it _will_ die down eventually.”

“God, I hope so. I feel like I am being babysat 24/7. I completely understand that I fucked my life up, but why do I have to relive it every single day?”

Pete laughs loudly, “You're preaching to the choir here, dude. At least it hasn't leaked to the press yet which is absolutely astonishing, if we're being honest. I cannot believe that no one has said a word.”

“It's my biggest fear, Pete. I don't want the fans to misunderstand what happened. I don't want anyone to feel badly for me or to think that I did this for _attention_. I was stuck inside my own head and I couldn't figure out how to get out.”

“Is that why you did it?” His says, his voice quiet, calm.

“In the simplest of terms, yeah. I didn't know how to do all of this and live with how I felt. William helped me a lot in the past. He was there for the majority of my breakdowns and he kept me together when I felt so fucking bad about myself that I needed to hurt myself. We leaned on each other for support and it was just something that happened. One of us would breakdown the other would help you pick up the pieces and then we went about our lives for the most part. When Brendon came along and he figured out what was going on, my head was telling me that it was selfish to pull someone else into this; _especially_ someone I had feelings for and who, for _some fucking reason_ , had similar feelings for me. He knew about some of what was going on but he didn't know everything and I convinced myself that it was easier to leave this planet than to drag him into my life and subject him to my demons.”

“Dall, I understand exactly where you are coming from on this. If it weren't for Patrick-” His voice breaks and I hear him take a deep breath. “If it weren't for Patrick, I wouldn't be here. He literally is my everything and I know that we keep things ambiguous just to fuck with people, but you are smart enough to know that Patrick and I have been in a relationship for a long time. He is truly my soul mate and if Joe hadn't started this band and if I had never met Patrick- I really don't think I would be here right now. There are people in our lives that are strategically placed for whatever reason and it just works. They are always there and they will always understand no matter what kind of shit you get yourself into. Bilvy is your best friend and he would do anything for you, but you and I both know that Brendon is your soul mate.”

Now I am the one getting choked up. I take a few seconds to let what he said sink in before I respond.

“Yeah. I really think he is, Pete.”

“Duh, Dallon.” He snorts. “Now, the real reason I called is to see how you were _really_ doing. Gabe said you had a bad day the other day and I get that. So, what's going on? Talk to me, dude.”

Am I really doing this? Am I going to have this conversation with my boss? Fuck it, might as well. It seems Gabe has already basically filled him in anyways.

“The other day was blown way out of proportion. I was upset with William and it got a little out of hand. I haven't been sleeping and it was a bunch of things that just blew up.” I say with a sigh. I know Pete understands this, but it is still strange having this conversation.

“We all hit our limits, man.” He says sympathetically. “There is no shame in that. You didn't punch anyone and you didn't hurt yourself, so there was no harm done, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose. It's just really hard to control my emotions sometimes. Which is one of the reasons that I am thankful I am stopping one of the medications. I can't handle it _and_ being in the studio. Feeling so tired that I don't want to function? That is ridiculous to me.”

“I know how that is. They try every medication they have in their arsenal and they hope one will do the trick. The truth is, yes, medication helps some people, but not all people. Some people take it for a short period of time to help them over the worst of what they are going through and find they eventually don't need to take it anymore. I've been there. Well, you know my story- there is no use repeating it.” He tells me.

“So, how do you do it? How did you figure out how to balance all the good and bad shit?” I ask him quietly.

“It wasn't easy, Dall. Honestly, it took a lot of years, a lot of therapists before I finally found someone that didn't make me feel like I was the poster child for Bipolar Disorder and actually helped me to keep that sense of balance. It's not always perfect. I have my moments where shit gets blurred and things don't want to make sense, but now have better tools to help me cope. It's all about having the best people around you to help you make those decisions when it gets to be overwhelming. I think that you are going to be just fine, Dall. Honestly, I have seen how your band is around you. Even before all of this came about. You all act like each others mothers- _especially Spencer._ They would never let you go through this alone. You have a shit ton of people, myself and Patrick included, that love you and love seeing you happy.”

“Thanks, Pete. That means a lot. Honestly, I was a little hesitant when Gabe said I should talk to you about this. I don't need anyone else worrying or thinking I am not stable enough to do my job, ya know?”

He actually giggles as he snorts into the phone, “That would be a little fucking hypocritical for me to judge you, don't you think?”

“I just wasn't sure how all this was going to affect my position in Panic. I honestly thought they were going to kick me out of the band.”

“Dall, that will never happen. A lot of words were said after you did what you did. Zack and I had a pretty serious chat _which I am sure you already heard about._ Brendon and I have talked quite a few times. Never in _any_ of those conversations was there any talk of you being asked to leave the band. We all agreed that it was going to go at _your_ pace and we would just see where it went. Your contract is for as long as _you_ want it. No one would ever dream of taking that away from you, especially me.”

I actually let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. It's one thing for Brendon and Spencer to tell me that they weren't going to kick me out of the band, but hearing it from Pete makes me feel a little more at ease.

“That actually makes me feel better, thank you. You know how it is; your brain tells you the worst and you just brace for the impact.”

“You're golden, dude. I promise. You know you can always come to me, okay? I am always here for you.”

Pete's sincerity makes me smile. He is probably one of the nicest guys you will ever meet. He would do anything to make sure his friends are happy.

“I appreciate that more than you know.”

“Don't be a stranger, Dall. Give me a call sometime, okay? Go try to get some sleep.”

“Alright. Thanks again. Talk to you later, man. Bye.”

“Bye, dude.” I hear him say as I end the call. I take my time walking up the stairs, trying to sneak back into our bedroom. I plug my phone in and start to slip into bed when Brendon rolls over.

“Where did you go?” He says in the cutest sleepy voice.

“Pete called. I just went downstairs so I wouldn't wake you. Go back to sleep, babe.”

He makes an amused humming noise and he pulls me into him, “Don't kill Gabe, okay? We love Gabe.” He says.

I laugh against him, “Okay, I promise I won't kill him. Love you, Bren.”

“Love you.” He nestles his head into my chest and I fall asleep tangled in his arms.

 

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe and Brendon's run in with someone from their past throws Dallon for a loop. Dallon doesn't need any reminders that he isn't perfect...

I wake up groggy and blurry eyed. The numbers on the alarm clock read 4:37am in a red haze that seems almost ominous at this time of the morning. I've only been asleep for maybe a few hours and per usual, my brain doesn't want to play fair so I am wide awake before everyone else in the house. It is still fairly dark outside as I lay in bed listening to Brendon breathe these tiny, adorable snores for almost an hour before my bladder finally decides it's time to get out of bed. I decide that it's best not to wake B up yet; he and Gabe hit the town hard last night, it's probably best just to let him sleep for a while.

I wander down the stairs and to my surprise, Gabe is already up and from the looks of it, attempting to figure out Brendon's fancy coffee maker. Honestly, this coffee maker is ridiculous. It grinds the beans, has a reservoir that holds the water, and you can program the settings for multiple users. When he saw it online he _had to have it_ ; it's been his pride and joy ever since. It took me almost 4 months to figure out how to turn it on without it giving me an error message. I stand in the doorway of the kitchen for about 30 seconds watching Gabe examine all the buttons with a puzzled look on his face, his tongue sticking out just slightly in between his lips as if he is deep in concentration. I genuinely feel badly for him, it's too early to be this frustrated and under-caffeinated.

“You have to press the big silver button on the top right to turn it on.” I try to explain. His whole body jumps and he turns around glaring at me; one hand splayed over his heart, grasping his chest.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dall! You scared the living shit out of me!” He says, a little out of breath and his eyes wide.

“I'm so sorry, dude. You okay?” I try hard to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, I will be- _after I have a fucking heart attack._ ” It comes out as an irritated mumble, but his smirk says he isn't truly upset.

“Go sit down old man, I'll make you some coffee.” I pat him on the shoulder and he smiles.

“You're a king among men, Dall. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Also, I am only a year and a half older than you, so I would be careful who you are calling old.” He jokes as he sits down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. I finish the overly complicated process of making two cups of coffee and when I turn back around, Gabe has his head in his hands almost as if he is pouting. I can't help but laugh; he looks pathetic.

“You look miserable, why are you even up?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I had a nightmare and I couldn't fall back asleep. No big deal.” He says looking down to pick at something invisible on the counter.

“You want to talk about it?” I offer.

“Maybe later? It was pretty wicked. Why are _you_ up?”

“I can't usually sleep more than three or four hours at a time. Most mornings I wander around the house or watch TV until Bren wakes up.”

“Oh. You don't take anything to help you sleep?”

I nod as I hand him his mug of coffee. “I can- I usually don't though unless I have to be somewhere early the next day. I try to go to bed with Brendon and then if I can't sleep I just get up and do something- read or fuck around in the music room something like that. If I lay in bed and let my brain take over, it's never a good situation.”

“You sound like Pete, man. We were on tour once and he came knocking on our bus door at 3am. He couldn't sleep- hadn't slept for days, actually and Patrick couldn't handle his incessant rambling anymore so he dropped him off on our doorstep. He eventually climbed into my bunk and we laid there while he talked non stop for 2 hours. He said he just had to get everything out of his head and then he could sleep. Which he did for _9_ hours.” He says with a laugh. “He always has so much going on in his head. All these ideas and lyrics- he really is the hardest working person I know.”

I look at him and raise an eyebrow. “Speaking of the little shit himself, guess who called me at 12:30 this morning?”

Gabe swallows his coffee quickly and looks at me innocently. “I'll give you a hint, his boyfriend’s name rhymes with hat trick.” I say with an exaggerated smile.

He drops his head down and sighs. “Hey, don't be mad at me, okay? I just figured he could impart some advice that might actually be useful. Pete's in a good place right now, but he's come a long way in the last few years from being in a terrible, fucked up place. Despite what everyone thinks, he really isn't an idiot.”

“Dude, it's fine. I'm just giving you a hard time. We had a long talk- everything's alright. To be perfectly honest, I should have gone to Pete a long time ago; I was just really afraid that he would think I wasn't stable enough to do all of this. Having gone through it himself, he knows how tough it can be. I just didn't want him to tell me that it wasn't safe for me anymore. I was genuinely scared I would hear that from him. He's one of the few that understands what's going on in my head- probably better than my therapist, if we're being fair. He's a good guy though and I forget the shit he has gone through because he managed to pull himself out of it.”

Gabe looks at me incredulously, “You thought you were getting kicked out of the band?” His eyebrow raised in question.

“Honestly, yeah. I mean who would want to put up with this shit when they are trying to record an album, go on tour, press, all of that shit? It's stressful enough, no one needs to babysit a full grown man on top of it, right?”

“You have nothing to worry about. I have never seen these dudes love someone more than they love you.” Gabe smiles fondly.

“So I have been told,” I take a sip of my coffee and sigh. “It felt like it was a real possibility though, Gabe. It's fine now, they for whatever reason, _still_ want to be around me.”

“Oh, fuck off, dude- they love you! Also, we're never having this conversation again because it's a moot fucking point.” He sighs, slinging his arm around my shoulder. I lean into him and we both sit at the counter drinking our coffee and bullshitting until the sun is peaking through the curtains above the kitchen sink with an almost ethereal glow; it's almost comforting.

Around 7:30 Gabe sighs heavily as he pushes back off of his chair crossing the kitchen to set his mug in the sink. “I better go wake Bilvy up or he will sleep all day.”

“Yeah, I guess I better go see if Brendon is up. He is usually downstairs by now.” I say heading in the opposite direction. I am halfway up the stairs when I realize I can still hear Brendon snoring; very odd for someone who thinks that if you sleep past 8am that you have wasted an entire day. I open the door silently and stealthily climb back into bed. The sheets are warm and cozy like they just came out of the dryer. Brendon puts off a massive amount of body heat when he is sleeping. It's like having my own personal furnace. I press myself along Brendon's back and drape my arm over his waist. He doesn't even flinch. I smile to myself and bring my hand lower until I reach the top of his sleep pants. I gently reach down, stroking him through his pants and boxers just to see if I can get any sort of reaction from him. He makes a small contented noise, but he doesn't wake. I use my palm and rub at him a little harder- watching him for a response. Slowly he starts to open his eyes and when he realizes what is happening, a slow smile spreads across his sleepy face.

“Mmm you can keep going, Dall.” I am almost certain he was trying for a sexy voice, but it comes out more sleepy and sedated which is really pretty cute.

“Yeah, you like that?” I roll him over onto his back; his warm skin pressed against my own as pull his pants down so I can have full access to his now semi-interested hard on.

“ _Fuck yeah_.” He sighs and the way he says it sounds so dirty and sinful that it goes right to my cock-which is now as hard as Brendon is.

I lower myself down his body until my mouth is aligned with his cock. I slowly, very slowly, lick along the side from the base to the head. He mumbles something that doesn't quite sound like words, but it's encouraging none the less. I take him into my mouth, he is still slightly soft and I can feel him harden the rest of the way as he groans. His skin is warm, velvety smooth- _perfect._ I can taste his salty pre-come on my lips when I tongue at his slit and I glide him the rest of the way into my mouth taking him as far down as I can. I wrap my fingers around his shaft and firmly stroke him and as I pull back I swirl my tongue around the head because I know how much he loves it. He squirms a little, arching his back up and I use my free hand to anchor his hips to the bed as I continue to fuck him with my mouth; all while he moans obscenely.

“Dall, fuck, close- _so fucking close_.” His words are strained and I can feel his body tense under mine. I take my other hand and slide it past his balls; circling his entrance with my index finger. He whines in response and I increase my rhythm. He comes less than a minute later down my throat as I swallow every drop. I take a second to stare up at him and this is my favorite part- how disheveled and undone he looks after he comes. His hair sticking up haphazardly in all directions and his breathing shallow and erratic with a completely blissful look on his face; I can't help but feel a little pride deep down knowing that I can do that for him. I take extra care to lick him clean and I climb back up his body. His fingers are threaded in my hair, pulling me into him as our lips crash together. His tongue fights mine for dominance and a small whimper emits from him as he tastes himself on my lips. We slowly break apart and I collapse against his chest breathing much heavier than I expected to be. The truth is that being in love with Brendon is intense, but it is so worth it.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of receiving a wake up blow job? Is it my birthday? Did I forget an important holiday?” He finally asks, with a definite giddiness to his voice.

“Just thought you might need a little encouragement to get out of bed this morning, that's all.” The corners of my mouth turning up slightly into a devilish smirk. He reciprocates the smile and guides me back to his mouth for another kiss.

“Best wake up ever!” He exclaims, still grinning and looking a little flushed. I make a mental note to do this more often.

By the time we make it downstairs, Gabe and William are sitting in the living room watching TV. Their fingers are intertwined and Gabe resting his head on William's shoulder. William gives me this all-knowing look; the one that says ' _I know you just blew your boyfriend upstairs- we could hear you'._ I just wink at him as he laughs uncontrollably into Gabe's hair. Gabe and Brendon both look at us as if we are crazy- although, that's pretty much how everyone looks at William and I when we are together- _as if we are completely out of our minds_. There is probably more truth to that than either of us would care to admit.

“So, what exactly did you boys do last night?” I ask cautiously. Gabe glances quickly at Brendon and William's eyebrows go up into a quizzical expression.

“We ran into some old acquaintances. Unfortunately, nothing scandal inciting; I promise we aren't going to be on some gossip site somewhere with our asses out.” Gabe halfheartedly confesses.

William looks glances at me with a quizzical expression. I am just as curious as he is, probably even more so. “Well, that's a plus. Who did you run into?” William questions. An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air and I am instantly anxious. I can feel my heart pick up and I just know from the silence that I am not going to like the answer. Gabe is purposefully staring at the ground waiting for Brendon to answer and I am almost certain that Brendon was waiting for Gabe to speak up first.

“It was- it was Ryan and Jon.” Brendon's voice was a little hesitant and he immediately looks to me for a reaction and then quickly looking away.

I sigh internally and grimace at the name. I have personally never met Ryan Ross, but he is definitely _not_ one of my favorite people. I know about his past with Brendon. If I were being diplomatic, I would say that I know and understand that every side has two stories. However, Brendon has always been very candid and open with me and he has told me everything that I have ever asked. I could also care less what that asshole Ryan Ross has to say. I also know that it took _years_ for Brendon to be completely over him; part of me thinks that there will forever be a small piece of his heart that Ryan will always have. Ryan was his first love, his first sexual partner, his first kiss, his first _everything._ You don't just forget someone that had that big of an impact on your life like that. Eventually, when the band split into two, their relationship went with it and that is something that, unfortunately, will always be associated with the band. I know deep down that Brendon doesn't love him anymore, but there is always that twinge of uncertainty in the back of my head that says: _“what if he still loves him? What if he leaves me and wants to be with him again?”;_ the thought makes me nervous and more than a little uneasy. It's been years since they have seen each other though. Anytime someone mentions him in an interview, Brendon ignores it, moves on or Spencer takes the question and they quickly forget about it. He will always be a part of their lives and I can understand it to a certain extent, but it's definitely bridges that haven't just been burned- they've been blown up, buried, and had cement poured on top of them. I just wish it had stayed that way.

“Oh.” I barely mutter. Brendon directs his gaze towards me again, taking my hand in his and squeezing tightly as if he already knows what I am thinking.

“It's fine, babe. It was fine. We talked with them for a few minutes and then we all went our separate ways; It wasn't a big deal. They told us they were playing a small show at a club on the strip this weekend.” He tells me reassuringly and for a minute I _really_ want to believe him; I also _really_ want to hit something. The immediate rage I feel when I hear his name is terrifying. It's something that Brendon has tried to get me to ignore in the past, but I just can't; instead I sit there next to him and dig my fingernail into the side of my leg hoping no one will notice.

“We were coming out of the diner over off of the strip and they were walking down the street. We said a quick hello and they asked about the bands- that was pretty much it.” Gabe says corroborating B's story. Shrugging his shoulders as if he is saying that it's no big deal and I shouldn't be worried about it. Of course the pragmatic side of me knows there probably wasn't much more to their exchange and that it was just a quick conversation, but the fact that Brendon had to see him again, that is the part that is bothering me the most. I do my best to let it go-for now.

“Well, I am sure _that_ was awkward. What else did you two do last night?” William asks while passively trying to redirect the conversation.

“Well, we were going to see if Gabe could get a part time job as a cage dancer but they said he was too tall for the cage. So, we went to the bar and drank until it wasn't a good idea anymore.” Brendon teases, desperately to lighten the mood- even _I_ smile at that. Truth be told, and with a high volume of alcohol, Gabe would actually be a really good cage dancer.

“Honestly, it wouldn't be fair to the other dancers- I would be making _all_ the money _every_ night; there would be massive amounts of jealousy and hatred.” Gabe says with a somewhat proud certainty and ridiculous grin.

“Of course you would be, honey.” William says patting his leg encouragingly.

Gabe looks at him with mock hurt in his eyes. “Hey, don't patronize me! I would own that cage!”

I roll my eyes. “You _would_ have to own it in order for anyone to let you dance in it, Saporta.”

“That's not an entirely bad idea,” He turns to William, “Can we buy a strip club, baby?” That familiar twinkle in his eye.

William rolls his eyes and sighs.“No. Absolutely not, Gabriel! You don't need a strip club. How the hell would we explain that to your father? No. Just go on tour again and you will have all of that at your disposal- nightly even!” He says with a grin.

Gabe's eyes light up like a kid on Christmas, “True! Hey, can Cobra open for you guys next tour?” There is a bit of a hopeful undertone, but mostly he is being entirely Gabe at this point.

“It's not the worst thing I have heard today. Have your people call our people.” I say to him thoughtfully.

His smile turns into a wicked grin, “William _is_ 'my people'. Let's do this!”

“We'll talk to Pete after the record comes out. Honestly, it would probably be pretty awesome. It would be like 2006 all over again. We can get Travie and Fall Out Boy to come on tour too. William, you can get TAI back together, right?” I can see the wheels in his head turning with thought. Gabe smiles and leans into William who looks at him as though he hangs the moon. Despite their complete opposite personalities, they are absolutely made for each other in every single way.

William chuckles a sad laugh, “I'll see what I can do, Bren. We're not really all on the same page these days. But, that would be pretty cool.”

I nod my head in agreement. I look at the clock and realize we have been talking for over an hour. I gently nudge Brendon's side and he looks at me confused until he sees what time it is. We both excuse ourselves as he and I wander to the kitchen. Today is the first day that I am going to start weening off my meds. I can tell Brendon is nervous, but he honestly shouldn't be. Any side effects probably won't show up until next week or the week after. I take the half pill and the other full pill that he gives me and he stares at me as if I am supposed to completely transform right in front of his eyes.

“Bren,” I laugh “It could be days to a week or two before we see any changes- if any. Please stop looking at me like I am going to turn into a transformer or something.”

He cocks his head and sighs. “Now, _that_ would be cool.” His smirk is one of the best parts about him and I am glad he does it often.

“Plans for today?” I ask as I grab another glass of water.

“Studio. The boys are coming with I think.”

“Awesome. I'll go change.” I start to walk away and turn back to him as I see him slump against the counter. “Stop worrying, B. I am fine, okay?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“You say that, but you don't believe it- _please stop worrying._ There is a difference in preparing for something to possibly happen and expecting it to happen. You are worrying about absolutely nothing.” I call over my shoulder as I head toward the stairs.

“I saw you.” He mutters.

I stop mid step and turn towards him, my heart beating a little faster. “You saw me what?”

“I saw you digging your nails into your leg when we were talking about Ryan and Jon. I always notice when you do that. You think that you are being discrete- you aren't. Not to me at least. ” His voice is barely a whisper.

“Bren-”

“No- I get it. I just wish I knew how to stop it, that's all.” He turns and faces the counter and I have no clue how to handle this.

“It's just how I distract myself. I don't even realize I am doing it a lot of the time. Ya know, sometimes I wish you could live for one day inside my head. I wish you knew how hard it was to turn off all the noise just to be able to function. It doesn't help that every time I hear his name, it makes me want to hit something because I know how much he hurt you,” I sigh, “I wish I could definitively say that I know you will never go back to that asshole, but my brain tells me that he will always be better than I am, for whatever fucked up reason, and it's really hard for me to let it go.”

Brendon looks at me with a shocked expression that makes me wish I had just kept my fucking mouth shut.

“Please tell me that you honestly don't believe that?”

I shrug, my eyes trying to focus on anything except that look in his eyes.

“Dallon, he will _never_ mean anything to me. I am finally at a point in my life where I have found the man of my dreams and it _was never_ and _will never_ be him. It's always going to be you, babe. You are everything I have ever hoped for in my life; I wished for you and you came true. Trust me, I know it's hard for you to understand how I can just let what happened between him and I go, but I would rather spend my time being happy about having you in my life than being miserable thinking about him. I want absolutely nothing to do with _Ryan fucking Ross_ , okay?” He slowly glides across the room and gathers me into his arms pulling me close to him. I rest my head on his shoulder. “Listen to me, I will always pick you, Dallon. Good days, bad days, I love you and I always will.”

I wrap my arms around him, “I love you too, B. I'm sorry. I am trying really hard to control it, I just get so caught up that I still use it sometimes to distract myself. It never goes farther than that though, I promise.”

“I know, baby. I believe you.” He murmurs to me and kisses me softly on the cheek- chaste and sweet. “Let's go get dressed and get to the studio, okay?”

I nod into his shoulder and he chuckles “Come on you big baby, upstairs.” I laugh and he pulls me with him all the way up the stairs and into the bedroom where he lets go of me in front of our closet. “Find something to wear and don't take all day, please? It's the studio, not a fashion show, Dall.”

“Says the man who won't even go outside to the mailbox unless his hair is perfect?” I retort.

He laughs loudly throwing his head back with a bright grin. “Lies! Now, get your ass dressed and let's go. Spencer is going to be a bitch if we are late again.”

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon is physically and mental exhausted and he is trying very hard to hide it from everyone. One text to Pete may bring it all crashing down though...

We spend the next almost 28 hours in the studio over a two day span and by the time the 25th hour comes rolling in, I am done for. I have slept about six hours total in the past seven days. My brain is tired, my eyes are tired, and I just want to go home. What people who are not in the music industry don’t see is how strange studio life really is. You spend the majority of your time listening to snippets of playback that probably will be left on the cutting room floor. The rest of the time, you are playing the same chorus or verse over and over and over again until Brendon deems it good enough to move on. Gabe and William, who have apparently no better place to be, are perched on the worn leather couch in the control room with Spencer and I as we watch Kenny finish his tracking. Brendon is pacing behind the engineer while simultaneously nodding his head to what he hears. He is talking mostly to himself out loud- discussing what he wants the final album to sound like. The engineer nods respectfully and Brendon smiles at Kenny, giving him a thumbs up as they listen to the playback.

All the while, I am trying very hard not to scream. Being stuck inside these four walls for the better part of two days could probably drive anyone crazy. On the outside, I am smiling happily, humming along, taping out the beat on my thigh, and nodding along to the playback. On the inside, I am trying desperately to hold myself together. I haven't told Brendon, or anyone for that matter, that I have been having panic attacks, more so anxiety attacks, at least once a day for the past week. Nothing as extreme as the one that happened when our friends were over- _that one was fucking terrible._ These smaller ones have been happening when I wake up or have been waking me up in the morning. Especially since I learned that Brendon had run into Ryan. Having the thought of him in my mind is getting to be too much. I can usually deal with the anxiety on my own as long as I can get to a quiet place; so far I have been lucky. I've been wrestling with myself about telling him, but I can't bring myself to do it because I know he will want me to stay on my meds and I simply can't allow that to happen. Despite my otherwise positive facade, I have been faking how I feel for the last week or so and I have no idea how they haven't caught on yet. William however, has been giving me these _looks;_ a sideways glare that he quickly dismisses with a smile when I make eye contact. I can't quite decipher if it's just how he always looks at me or if he is trying to figure me out. Still, if I know William well enough, and I do, it's the latter.

He corners me at the end of the day and I try very hard to avoid him; mostly because I am fucking exhausted from spending all day pretending that I don't want to crawl into a deep, dark hole somewhere and die- or sleep or something. He studies me for a second as if he is just waiting to pounce and I avoid direct eye contact which consequently makes him move closer to me until he is in my line of vision again. He sits down next to me in a huff and leans in close.

“What's going on, Dall?” His voice is quiet and concerned; he is _always_ concerned.

I try like hell to play it cool. I _really_ don't need a fucking lecture today and I sure as shit don't have the patience for it anyways. I figure a smart ass response is better than anything at this point.

“Probably lots of things? Here at the moment though, nothing.” I smirk, shrugging my shoulders. He sighs as if he is over my shit before the words even escaped from my lips.

"Bullshit; you look  _exhausted;_ I  _know_ that look, Dall. Is it about Brendon running into Ryan?” The way he says the word 'exhausted' makes me want to roll my eyes; makes me feel as if I am supposed to spill my guts because he happened to stumble upon some sort of emotionally transcending revelation of me. The tone of his voice is dripping with sympathy or empathy; I can't really distinguish which one he was going for, though if I had to wager an educated guess- probably both.

“No! It's not about Ryan- _fuck him._ I didn't get a lot of sleep. I’m fine, dude; just stop. There is nothing wrong. It's just been a long day. Honestly, with the way everyone keeps their eyes _glued_ to me all day, if something was wrong you would have already known, right?” I am trying so hard to suppress the tone of voice that is just waiting to creep out of me; a sarcastic, asshole tone that _begs_ to be argued with.

He ponders this and then glares at me as if he doesn't quite trust me; that's fine, _I don't trust_ _me either._ “ Something is going on and I _will_ figure it out.” He exaggeratedly huffs out an annoyed breath the way only William can, walking over to Gabe who is chatting with Kenny. I breathe a quick sigh of relief that I was able to fend off William for now at least; though I know he won't keep his mouth shut about it for long.

I didn't even realize we had pulled into our driveway until Brendon grabs my hand and it startles me.

“Sorry, babe. You okay?” He looks at me with a soft, concerned facial expression and my heart flutters anxiously.

I shake my head, embarrassed, “Yeah, I guess I just spaced out, B; Long day, _long week_.” I manage a small laugh and follow everyone else to the house.

“I am going to order pizza; everyone okay with that?” Brendon announces. A collective ‘yes’ follows and he sets off to find the menu. I sit down on the couch dejectedly, my body sinking into the soft cushions. Gabe flops down next to me and his arm is around my shoulder soon after.

“What’s bothering you, man?”

“Nothing. Just tired.” I sigh.

Gabe makes a noise that sounds almost like a mix between a groan and a “hmmm”. I don't even bother to look at him because I can't deal with this right now. My head is fucked up and I don't think it has anything to do with the meds. The truth is that I have felt like this before; it's been a while, but I just feel so tired that I want to sleep for days and if I do, that is going to throw up a huge red flag to Brendon that something is wrong considering my sleeping habits _or lack thereof,_ lately.

“Seriously, Gabe. I really _am_ just tired. It catches up with me every once in awhile,” I laugh, “Maybe I will actually fall asleep before 3 am tonight.”

“I'm here if you need anything, okay?” He says genuinely.

“Thanks, man. I'm seriously fine though. I will probably just call it an early night after dinner; Grandpa Weekes needs his 15 hours of sleep.” I joke with him. He laughs and squeezes my shoulder in a sideways hug.

“Whatever you need, dude.”

I smile at him so he knows I am 'alright'. I have practiced this smile so many times over the years. It's the same smile I use when we have been doing press all day and I want to leave and do anything except answer the same questions for another four hours. It seems to satisfy him enough that he leaves me to find out what the boys are doing. As I sit in the quiet of our living room, my brain is practically screaming at me to be destructive and I highly doubt anyone in this house would approve.

The scariest part about 'intrusive thinking' is that your brain, _your mental illness,_ has the power to convince you to do practically anything. To cause a scene, to hurt someone, or t _o hurt yourself_ just to name a few. For the most part, at least in my case, I have been able to rationalize and I know that the thoughts of hurting myself or doing something completely fucking stupid are 95% complete bullshit, but there is that 5% that isn't quite convinced. When I first started having these thoughts, before I even knew that they had a clinical name, it scared the shit out of me. I would be driving and I would start to envision what it would be like to just run my car into a telephone pole or off of a bridge. Later on, they became almost exclusively targeted towards hurting myself. Whether it be pinching the inside of my arms, banging my arm or wrist into the wall or a table, or cutting myself. Sometimes they are triggered by something that happened or something someone said, but for the most part- they are completely random. I may not have one for a long time and then all of a sudden I am in the garage grabbing the wire cutters to restring a guitar and I have this almost uncontrollable urge to dig them into my flesh, to push them into my arm or my thigh and bleed out. After years of behavioral therapy, I can mostly control those urges; some days though, I actually spend the majority of the day craving the destruction of myself.

The medications have helped some with those urges and my depression, in a general sense. The benzos, like the Klonopin, turn my brain off completely and usually long enough to let me sleep and reset. The fog induced by them makes life tolerable so I can breathe for a while; I just feel like shit for a long time after, so I mostly refuse to take them. The SSRIS, the atypical anti-psychotics, they have their own method in this madness and they quell the parts of my brain that make me feel like I don't deserve to be here or that no one wants me here. There are some medications that I have tried in the past that have made my depression or moods worse. For the most part, those were meds that they were trying in the hopes that I would possibly see a difference; Doctors call that “off label” use. I call it _'drug roulette'_ and I am sure most of them would agree. I spend the time researching the meds they want to throw at me. Brendon thinks I do that so I can talk them out of making me try something or getting better or whatever the hell he has thought in the past. The difference between me and an average person is that I am not uninformed, I am not uneducated about my illnesses, my brain just doesn't want to work the way it is supposed to. I would rather know what the hell I am going to put into my body and how it is supposed to work before I take it and I don't see why that is a problem. I try to be as honest as I can with my therapist, but I also know how to arc my descriptions of things so that I don't sound as if I need to be in an inpatient program as much as I probably should have been at some point, but I digress.

The pizza arrives and I paint on a happy face for Brendon and the boys even though I know Brendon sees through it. It feels like we have been sitting at the dining room table for 3 hours. By the time we are finished, my head is so noisy and loud that the only choice I have is to go to bed; I can't stand to listen to it any longer. I yawn for emphasis, I tell everyone goodnight, and I head upstairs to bed; so what if it's only 8:00 pm. Brendon stops me at the bottom of the stairs and kisses me long and slow; his lips tasting a little acidic and sweet from the pizza.

“What was that for?” I laugh.

“I just wanted you to know that I love you.” His smile is warm, but concerned. I've seen that look on him before and I know what he is thinking.

“I love you too, babe. I'm fine though, I am just exhausted. Actually, can you get me my meds? I wanna make sure I fall asleep.” I give him as big of a smile as I can muster. He nods, wandering off to the kitchen or wherever he is stashing my meds this week and brings me back two small blue pills and a glass of water.

“Thank you.”

“Are you okay, Dallon?”

“Yes. I am just tired; I would tell you if I wasn't, I promise. You are more than welcome to go to bed with me if you are concerned though.” I smile at him a little coquettishly and he laughs loud.

“I'll be up in a few hours, I want to pick out that melody for that last song we were working on today. You know for the the one that doesn't have a name yet; I don't like it enough.” He says with a furrowed brow and that is typical Brendon. Always working, always trying to make everything perfect. Normally I would be on the same page as him, but tonight I can't be his cheerleader. I need alone time; quiet time to settle what is going on in my head.

“Ok, babe. I'm gonna head up to bed, good luck with the song. I love you.” I tell him pressing a kiss to his forehead as he smiles.

I slip into my pajama pants and climb into bed. It will be about 30 minutes before the meds kick in so I try to find a comfortable position. I think about texting Pete and asking if he has ever felt like this before. I pick up my phone and type “ _Hey,are you busy?”_ pressing send and then set it back down just as quickly. He is probably busy and I really shouldn’t be bothering him anyways. I turn over and lay on my stomach, searching for the cool part of the pillow when my phone buzzes on the nightstand next to me. My heart flutters and I don’t even know why- it’s just Pete.

Pete Replies: “ _Nope. Patrick’s at the studio until late. What’s up?”_ Suddenly, I lose my nerve and decide that contacting Pete wasn’t the best idea.

“ _I don’t even know how to explain it… never mind...lol”_ I text back; I am very much regretting texting him now because he knows what to ask and he knows how it feels; _he is not going to leave me alone._

“ _Don’t LOL me. Dude, are you okay?”_

_I type out: “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s cool, I promise.”_

My phone screen lights up and I see that Pete is calling. I consider not answering it, but that would only incite a phone call to Brendon or Gabe. I have no choice except to answer.

“Hey, dude.” I greet him trying to sound more alert than I really am.

“What’s the matter, man? You can talk to me, ya know.” He huffs.

“Can I talk to you without you running off to tell Brendon shit? Because that is what William does and it’s annoying.” I manage a small laugh, but he knows I am serious.

“Dude, I am not going to run my mouth to _anyone_ unless you want to kill yourself. So, spill it.”

“I don’t want to kill myself.” I mumble, the meds are starting to make my head feel a little lighter, my body is feeling cozy and warm.

“Good. So, tell me what’s going on.”

“First, I want to tell you that I am waiting for my meds to kick in, so anything I say in the next few minutes stays between you and I, okay?”

“Sure…what did you take?” He sounds worried.

“I don’t know. Brendon gave it to me though, no worries. I don’t have any access to any of my meds. ”

He breathes an audible sigh and then says “As long as you didn’t fucking overdose or something, dude.”

“No, No. I promise. Brendon gave them to me so I can sleep. That's the thing too- I am so tired, but I just never sleep. I just want to sleep, but I feel like I need to do everything- all the time.”

“Yeah, I get that. Are you sure you are alright?” His voice sounds skeptical, I can’t say that I really blame him.

“Are any of us alright, Pete?”

He laughs, “Well, no, but you sound a little  _manic_  right now and it’s a little weird hearing it from anyone besides myself.”

“I’m not bipolar, Pete. At least they said I wasn’t? I guess, I could be? I mean, who the fuck knows anymore, “ I sigh heavily, “Anyways, I just wanted ask you how the fuck you do this- how are you keeping your shit together when it feels like everything's falling apart?”

“It’s a struggle, man. I try really hard just to keep myself as centered as possible. I try to make sure that if there are things that I know are going to overwhelm me that I have someone with me or someone I can call or text if I need to. I don’t really have a diagram for it, I just try my best and when I feel like I can’t do it, Patrick is there to pick me up. It’s important to have a support system that knows your triggers and can sense them for you if you aren’t able to tell them what is going on.”

“I know Brendon and the guys will always be there for me, it just makes me feel like a fucking failure that I can’t navigate life solo, ya know?”

“Why would you want to though? Life is way more exciting when you can bring someone along for the ride, Dall.”

“I just feel like a terrible person for bringing him- bringing _all of them_ into this mess. If it weren’t for me, the record would have been done ages ago and-”

“Stop,” He interrupts, “Stop whatever you are going to say and listen to me for a minute, okay? I am a firm believer that everything in life happens for a reason. Some of the situations are shitty, of course, but how we get through them and who is standing beside us in the end is the most important thing. Your band mates, _your best friends_ , they would do anything for you and you know it. When Brendon called me, when he told me what had happened, I _assure_ you that he wasn’t fucking concerned with the record, or the band, or anything like that. He was concerned about you and only you. Dallon, I can categorically say that no one was bitching about when the record was coming out. Every one of those men wanted to make sure that _you_ were taken care of before anything else.”

I know he is right, I know he is telling me the truth, but that doesn’t stop the guilt that builds up in my chest every day. It doesn’t stop me from feeling like I ruined everyone’s life.

“I know, Pete.” I say a little sullen. My eyes are starting to close and I just let them for once. It’s actually relieving knowing that I can stop my head from over thinking with the power of chemicals. That is what must make them so alluring to people.

“You _know_ , but you don’t believe it. That’s fine- one day you will and you’ll feel much better about all of this than you do right now.” His voice is soft like he is talking with a frightened child.

“Pete?"

“Yeah, buddy.”

“W- were you scared when you thought you didn’t want to live anymore?” My words are barely a whisper through the sluggish fog that will slowly turn into sleep.

“You sure you want to talk about that right now? You are almost asleep, I can hear it in your voice.”

“Yeah, I need to know. Were you?”

“Okay,” He clears his throat, “When I thought that I wanted to leave this world; when my head was too noisy and full of shit I shouldn’t have been listening to, I wasn’t thinking about anyone else. I had it in my head that no one cared and it couldn’t have been farther from the truth. When you feel like that though, your head convinces you otherwise. After what happened, when the pills had run their course, when I was thinking clearer and I had a firm grasp on reality; that is when I was scared. I saw what it did. I saw how it affected people and to know that I caused that fear- that terrified me. Actually taking the pills, no. I had no fucking clue what I was doing. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it happened.”

“You were scared after? Not during?” I say slowly and carefully.

“The aftermath was worse than the event, but I know it is what made me who I am today. We all go through our own personal Hell, but when you can walk through Hell and find yourself still in tact in front of the gatekeeper- that is what makes you so much stronger than you were before. You left Hell behind a long time ago, Dallon. Time to find yourself again.”

“I want to, Pete. I don't want to be the broken one anymore,” My voice is soft and a can feel a tear run down my cheek. “I don't want to do this anymore, Pete.”

“Do what, Dall?” He questions.

“Nothing,” I say slurring my words, the phone is heavy like a brick in my hand. “Meds. I think they are working. Talk to you later, okay? Thank you.”

He is quiet for a few seconds, “Okay, Dall. Talk to you later. Goodnight.” I throw my phone on the nightstand and it hits with a dull thud; it will disconnect when Pete hangs up. I can't even open my eyes for how heavy my eyelids feel. I slip into sleep and in the back of my mind there is a secret hope that I don't ever wake up.  


 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon is hiding his daily panic attacks from Brendon, but a late night call from a concerned friend might clue him in...

When I awake, I immediately notice that I still feel a bit “off”. I don't know for sure if it's the pills or my own brain, but either way, something feels wrong. I lay there for a few more minutes in my drug induced fog, when I realize that Brendon isn’t lying next to me. I start to panic, looking over at the clock realizing it's only 2am- it’s still unusual for him not to be in bed yet, but it’s not _as_ worrying. I stretch while swinging my legs over the side of the bed and I am finding it pretty obvious that the meds are still in my system and in full force. I am having quite a hard time walking to the door; stumbling into the dresser before I finally get my barrings. I make my way downstairs, carefully holding onto the railing as my wobbling legs touch each step. When I reach the bottom, I hear the noise from the music room over the hum of the air conditioner; a faint _thud, thud, thud_ that vaguely reminds me of a heartbeat. I let my body sink against the cool wall as I slide my shoulder against it for support. As I near the doorway, the music itself has stopped, but I can still hear something I can't quite make out. I knock on the door, opening it carefully. The room is fairly dark except for the small Tiffany table lamp next to the bookshelf. Brendon is perched behind his piano, one hand on the keys, the other reaching for the drink set upon the coaster on the top of his Steinway; his most prized possession and a gift from none other than Pete Wentz after _Fever_ went Platinum. He looks up at me, his eyes wide and glassy. Even through my blurry vision, I can tell he has been crying. I slowly walk closer to him, bracing myself against the arm of the chair sitting about 4 feet from him.

He sniffles and clears his throat “Dall, hey! I thought you would still be asleep.” He offers me a half smile, but I don't buy it.

“I just woke up; you weren't there.” My voice sounds small- even to me. He holds his arm out to me and pulls me close , his hands resting on my hips.

“I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry. I just got caught up down here. We can go to bed now, if you'd like?” He murmurs into my ear, winding his arms around me tightly. “Let's go to bed, okay?”

“What's the matter, B?”

He looks perplexed and maybe a little caught off guard. “Nothing, I just got caught up in playing; I think I may have figured out this track.”

“The one with no name?” He and Spencer had been working on another song for the album for a while, I don't even know much about it.

“Yeah. I think I figured that out too.” He says in a whisper, with his lips against my neck.

“Nothing is wrong?” I persist. I find it hard to believe that he would be this emotional without some sort of prompt so late into the night.

“No, love. Nothing is wrong. Let's go to bed, okay?” It's obvious that whatever is bothering him, he doesn't want to talk about- and I can't make him. Especially right now when my head is still swirling.

“Can we just cuddle in here?” I whine.

“Of course we can; come here.” He helps me stabilize my feet on the floor and pulls me with him to the worn leather couch on the back wall of the music room. He lays on his side with his back flush against the back of the couch and I lay in front of him as he pulls me tight against his chest, covering us both with a blanket.

“I love you so much, Dallon.” He whispers against my shoulder. “Don't ever leave me, okay?”

My heart beats a little faster, “Bren-”

“Don't ever leave me.” He interrupts and pulls me even tighter into the warmth of his body.

“I won't, baby. I won't” I insist as I start to drift back to sleep. I feel him nod against me and breathe a soft sigh. His arm holds me tighter as he drifts off as well.

Sometime in the few hours that we have been sleeping, we end up on the floor cuddled next to the couch instead of on it. I have no idea how that happened without either of us remembering it. I sit up to stretch my arms above my head and he laughs at my hair which from what he describes to me, is more than just messy from sleep.

“You look like a troll doll, baby.” He laughs into his hands and then pulls them through his own tangled mop.

“Well, it's not like you look so hot in the morning either!” I smirk, sarcastically. “Actually, yeah you do.” I laugh.

“Oh, shush,” He says, dismissing my early morning flattery, “Besides stumbling downstairs at 2am- did you sleep ok?” He always looks so concerned lately; I can't figure it out.

“Yeah, I guess so? I don't feel _as_ tired.” I shrug. I try to be honest with him as much as possible, but I do still feel a bit lethargic. Although, _that_ could be the meds too.

“Well, that's a plus,” He smiles and kisses me quick on the lips, “Meds and then breakfast?” It's more of a rhetorical question. It's not as if I am one day going to say _“no, I am not going to take them today”_ and he would be perfectly okay with that notion and start to make us pancakes. No, that will never, ever happen; so I just nod. It's all just a formality anyway and he knows it.

We start coffee and he gets out a pans for the eggs and one for the bacon; humming along to his iPod. He sets my pills in front of me on the place mat and I let them stay there; I am sure he will remind me to take them shortly. I sit at the counter and think about Gabe and William leaving for home in two days; it makes me really sad. I can't believe they have been here for two weeks already. I really wish they would just move out here and keep us company, what's so good about California anyways?

I must be lost in my own thoughts because the next thing I know, Brendon is snapping his fingers in front of my eyes and laughing, “Earth to Dallon?”.

I smile at him, “Sorry, I was thinking that the guys are going home soon and I don't really want them to go.” I make an exaggerated frowning face, sticking out my bottom lip in a pout just for good measure.

He just shakes his head at me. “I kinda got used to having them around too,” He muses. “They will be back though. It's not like they are too far away; an hour by plane, 4 hours by car? We can go see them whenever you want to.”

“Still too far.” I mutter.

“Well, unless you want to move to LA or they want to move to Las Vegas, we're kind of at an impasse.”

I wrinkle my nose; the thought of leaving Vegas is not something I want to pursue.

“Yeah, I don't want to move to LA either.” He laughs.

He knows exactly how I feel about LA. Pretentious, tanned wannabe's trying to “make it” in the “business”. The funny thing is, is that most people don't even care what they do as long as they become famous in whatever way they can. Can't hack it in acting? Try being a musician. Can't play an instrument or sing? Try being a manager. If all else fails, marry someone famous or have an affair with someone famous; your name will make it into the tabloids somehow. It's too chaotic for me; I have anxiety just _thinking_ about the traffic on the 101.

“I think we'll stay here for the rest of our lives.” I say to him and he nods in agreement while fussing with the bacon in the pan. I stare out into the backyard for a few minutes getting lost in my own thoughts again, only returning to reality as Brendon is nudging my shoulder with his.

“Take your meds.” He insists.

“You know it sucks to take these, right?” My words are powerless against him, but he nods in faux-empathy anyways.

“Here, I poured you some juice too.” My words are purposefully ignored in favor of me taking these two pills. _I can't wait until I don't have to do this anymore._

“Mmmhmmm,” I say sarcastically. “Thanks, babe.” His smile is bright and cheerful considering how early it is _and_ how little sleep he actually got last night.

“You're welcome.” He turns to pour the pancake batter into the hot frying pan and I have a brief flashback of seeing him crying at his piano last night. I probably shouldn't ask, but I feel as if it has something to do with me.

“Babe?”

“Mmmhmm?” He hums, before turning around to face me.

“Were you- um... were you crying when I came in the music room this morning?” My heart is beating out of my chest for some reason. Transient anxiety at the hint of any sort of potential emotional event; I am used to it though. His face is a little less amused as he walks closer to me, turning to take the pan off of the heat before he crosses the room.

“I know you were talking to Pete last night.” His words are so quiet, I almost thought I didn't hear him correctly.

“Did I miss a memo that said we weren't allowed to?”

“What did you talk about?” He is avoiding eye contact and picking at something invisible on the counter. I place my hand over his to still him and he looks up at me, his eyes are sad and I hate that look on him.

“I really don't remember, honestly. I was a little medicated at the time.”

“Oh.”

“Why _'oh'_? Also, can you answer my question? Were you crying last night?”

“Y-yeah.” He stammers.

“Why, babe?” I touch his arm gently, smoothing my fingers back and forth against his warm skin.

He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it again. “Bren, just tell me, it's okay.” I assure him.

“Because I am afraid you are going to try again.” He says and it's as if all the air has been pulled out of him.

My heart stops in my chest and suddenly I can't breathe, what did Pete tell him?

“Did Pete tell you that?” I ask, incredulously.

“No. N-not in so many words, but he said you had been acting a little off on the phone.”

“Um, I was medicated with sleeping pills. I actually _do_ remember telling him _that_ at the beginning of our conversation.”

“Maybe I- maybe I misunderstood what he said.” He stutters.

“Did he call you right after I talked with him?”

“I think so.” He confesses.

I grit my teeth. _“Wentz is so fucking dead!”_

“What? Why?” Brendon's confused look is enough to make me calm down just a little. Maybe he didn't say what I think he said.

“He knows what he did.” I mutter.

“Is it true?” He whispers.

“Is what true?”

“Did you tell him you-” His voice breaks suddenly as he turns away from me. His chin resting on his shoulder.

“No! _I did_ _not_ _tell him I was going to kill myself_ , Brendon! I said nothing of the sort! I don't remember our conversation verbatim, but I assure you that did _not_ come up.”

“Why would he say that?”

“I have no idea. But, I will find out. Babe, I promise, I have no intention of doing that, okay?”

He looks up at me through his eyelashes, wet with tears. “You promise?” He asks, wiping his hand under his nose and sniffling.

“Baby,” I sigh, “Yes, _of course_ I promise.” I move towards him and pull him in close. His head resting on my chest, I can feel him start to melt into me as he quietly sobs. He hugs me tighter still and doesn't let go until we hear someone clearing their throat from across the kitchen. He and I both startle, turning at the same time to see who it is.

“Uh- Sorry?” Gabe says with a little hesitation in his voice. “I didn't mean to scare you. You okay, B?”

Brendon wipes his eyes with the heel of his hand, “Yeah, Yeah. Just- do you want some pancakes?” He smiles brightly and turns back toward the stove.

“Did I miss something or do you always get emotional over breakfast foods?” Gabe asks cautiously.

“Only pancakes- it must be a Vegas thing.” I quip. Gabe and Brendon both laugh and I feel the ache in my chest subside just slightly. I see Brendon take a deep breath and sigh over the pancakes in the pan and I can't help but still feel guilty over all of this. Not just what Pete said, but the past almost year of just everything being about me and my “recovery”; all of the guilt that I had pushed aside is starting to pile up again and I don't know how to deal with that. Pete was way out of line to call Brendon, especially since I asked him not to and he promised that he wouldn't. I make a note to call him later and let him have it; I trusted him and he let me down.

William sleeps late and misses the pancakes. He does however, make the tail end of the bacon which appeases him enough to not cause too much of a fuss. Gabe grins evilly eating the last few bites of his syrup soaked pancakes as William grumbles into his coffee. Brendon left the kitchen a few minutes ago to shower upstairs, even before I was done eating. I have a feeling that he just didn't want me left alone, so he made sure Gabe and William were around until he was done. I am glad they care, I am glad that they are all now hyper-aware of some of my triggers, but I hate feeling like I am not trusted to be around certain things. I can't know where the meds are kept, Brendon literally hides my razors- making me use that shitty electric razor instead, and he won't ever leave me alone in the kitchen- I guess for fear that I will grab a knife and hurt myself. I know it helps him feel better if I don't have any sort of temptation, but we have had the discussion that it's not exactly how my brain works. He is an amazing boyfriend, my absolute savior, and best friend, but I couldn't even cut out a fucking article from the Rolling Stone last week without having to ask him to bring me a pair of scissors; it's getting a little embarrassing to be honest.

It's all making me a little anxious and couple that with the fact that Bilvy and Gabe are leaving soon, I am practically jittery with anxiety. I hold my cup of coffee to my lips and before I can even take a sip, Bilvy is asking why my hands are shaking.

“I have no idea. Too much caffeine and maple syrup?” I say.

He looks at me, one eye cocked slightly as if he isn't exactly buying it. _“Is it?”_ He challenges.

“Probably. You know I eat almost an entire bottle of syrup on my pancakes.” I retort, playfully.

“True. But, I don't believe that is what is bothering you.”

“Oh, do tell, Mr. Beckett.” I say with a smart-ass grin.

“Your anxiety is getting bad again, isn't it?” His voice is low and he leans over to me; his head resting on my shoulder “B might not see it, but I do, Dall. Is it the meds?”

I sigh. I surrender, where is the white flag so I can wave it from atop my hill of mental illness? Bilvy literally sees through me and I have no idea how he does it; I guess that is what best friends are for.

“It's not _that_ bad. It's worse because of the med decrease, but it is not nearly as bad as it has been or could be. I am handling it though. Please, please, _please_ do not say anything to Brendon, he is worried enough as it is. Fucking- “ I make a low frustrated growling noise, “Ugh, Pete told him I was wanting to _kill myself_ \- which is not even remotely true! I still can't even believe he said that to him.” I lower my head and Bilvy pats me on the back.

“Why would he say that?” He questions.

“I have no idea. I talked with him last night while I was waiting for my meds to kick in, but I remember our conversation, for the most part, and I _know_ I didn't say that! I know I didn't.” My voice raises slightly and I realize that I am not exactly sure how the conversation really did go, but there is no way I said that, right? My heart starts to beat faster in my chest and I take a second to try to pull myself together. I am breathing slowly, but I know I am going to have an anxiety attack; I can feel it looming in my chest.

“Dallon. You have to breathe, buddy. Do you want me to get Brendon?” I can barely hear William talking to me, but I shake my head 'no' and try to stand. I need to get to the bathroom so that I can be alone. William pulls me back down and instead sets me on the chair in the corner of the dining area. “You've been having these a lot lately. I am _not_ stupid, Dall. I know you.” He squeezes my hand and it helps; just to feel something real and alive helps. “Breathe, Dallon. You are okay. Everything is okay. You are safe. You are safe in your house and I am holding onto you. Keep breathing, in and out. You are doing really well, okay?”His voice, what I can hear of it, sounds reassuring. It probably is odd to people that aren't privy to these, and everyone is different, but I learned a long time ago that it helps me if someone is with me, that they tell me I am safe and they tell me where I am. I helps to ground me. It feels a little less frightening that way. Sometimes, I get so lost in the chaos in my mind, in my panic, that I don't hear them, or see them and everything feels unreal to me. It's part of the way some people process anxiety or panic attacks, or so I have been told. It helps though if I am not that far into an attack and they can reassure me that I am alright. I really need Brendon right now, but I don't want to ask for him. I don't want to scare him, so I am trying my hardest to try to work through this without him. Bilvy is helping and I love him for it, but Brendon knows _exactly what I need_. I just don't want to ask for it in front of anyone else.

It feels like hours, but in reality, I know it had only been a few minutes. My breathing has slowed enough to where I don't feel like I am dying, the tightness in my chest hasn't budged though. 

“Hey, Dall. You okay, buddy?” Bilvy asks running his fingers through my hair. I nod; I can't really speak right now.

“It's okay, you're alright.” He repeats again and I believe him, I just don't feel any better. I nod again though so he knows I can hear him. I can hear the foot steps coming down the stairs and Bilvy's eyes widen.

He shrugs an apology. “Sorry, dude. I thought he would be up there longer.” My heart sinks because I know B is going to flip when he comes around that corner. I hear him calling from the living room and Bilvy reluctantly tells him we are in the dining area. I drop my head down before he walks in, I hate that look on his face when I am like this; it's as if I can see the color draining right out of his skin. Before I even realize it, he is next to me; dropped down onto the tile floor, rubbing my back and asking me if I am ok. I nod once again, I still can't bring myself to speak yet.

He turns to look at Bilvy who is now leaning wearily against the counter a few feet away, his voice a half whisper, “What happened?”

Bilvy holds his hands up and shrugs, “We were talking and then the next minute he was having an anxiety attack; It happened really fast, I didn't even see any signs.” He says, solemnly almost as if he could have stopped it if he had. I want to roll my eyes, but I don't have the energy.

“What were you talking about?”

“Pete.”

“Oh.” Is all he says, turning his attention back to me. “Baby, are you ok?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry.” My voice is shaky, but I feel better although my face is probably red blushed. A side effect of the mix of anxiety and embarrassment for panicking over something as stupid as _Pete_ Wentz.

“Hey. No. Don't apologize, babe. It's alright. It happens, right? You are okay though?” His hands tilt my head up so that I can look him in the eyes.

“I need- um.” Now I really _am_ embarrassed.

“I'll leave you two alone.” Bilvy says, as if on cue walking out of my line of vision.

“What do you need, baby?” He asks me, concerned and then it hits him, “Oh! That? Okay, um. Come on we can go in the music room, okay? Can you walk?”

“Yeah. Just help me up, please?” He does and he pulls his arm tight around my waist as we walk side by side to the music room and he pushes the door closed tight after we enter.

“You have to say it, Dallon. I need to know what you want me to do, okay?” He says after we take a seat on the couch. Each word slow and deliberate as if he is unsure of where to really start.

“I- I need you to hurt me, Bren. Please?” My words did not sound so pathetic in my head, but as they leave my mouth, I sound desperate and strung out; like an addict needing another hit. It almost startles me, but I push the thought aside for now.

“Where?”

“Anywhere, Bren. Just-”

“Ok, ok. Come here.” He pulls me closer to him and I lean back into his chest my skin feeling the warmth of his against the chill of my own. He shuffles behind me and we are now half sitting and half laying on the cushions. I feel his hands still on my side as he takes my flesh between his fingers.

“Here?” He whispers to me and I nod. “Okay.” Is all he says as his fingers pinch hard into my side near my rib cage. I hear him count, letting go when he gets to ten. I exhale a slow, shaky breath, stars sparking at my peripheries, but it's not quite enough.

“Again?” He asks. I nod to him before the word is even finished; I need this so badly right now. “Okay. Ready?”

“Yeah.” I breathe as he digs his nails into my side. It burns white hot and the pain is searing, but it is all so relaxing to have my brain be absolutely blank while it is happening. Pain seems to be my reset button and I am sure my therapist would love to discuss that with me at length some time, but I hope it never gets brought up.

He does it two more times on the other side and after the second, I melt into him as he rubs my head. If I were a cat, I would be purring right now.

He laughs softly, “Are you feeling better, baby?”

I want to say “yes”, I urge my brain to speak in actual words, but what comes out is “hmmmmm”.

He laughs again. “Let's just lay here for a while, okay? Nothing going on today. You relax for a while, Dall” I nod and turn to curl into him. He cuddles against me and I remember nothing else until he is gently shaking me awake.

“You need to get up, Dall. I love you, but my legs are asleep.”

“I was asleep.” I mumble.

“Yes, I know. You passed right out after that.” He says a little bewildered.

“It resets me.” I shrug.

“I know. I wish I knew why and how though.” He agrees. I shrug at him again, he smiles as I scoot over onto the other side of the couch, yawning.

“Dallon, do you want to talk about what triggered this?” His words are careful and quiet.

“I don't really know what to say except, I didn't say what Pete says I did. I _never_ told him I wanted to kill myself. What did he say to you exactly?”

“I believe you. I just need to know why he said it. Well, when he called he seemed pretty concerned about you which obviously worried me because I know you don't talk with him that often. He said that you had text him and he then called you. He said you asked him what it felt like when he thought he wanted to die-”

“Shit.” I say, throwing my hand over my mouth. My brain clicks back in and I am vaguely recalling my conversation with Pete. I feel like I want to throw up, I understand why he thinks I said it now, but I am still really pissed at him for calling Brendon.

“What?” Brendon's eyes are wide and he looks scared. I take his hand in mine and squeeze his fingers.

“He didn't understand what I meant. I never- I think he thought I was trying to subtly tell him I wanted to die.” I close my eyes, letting my chin drop to my chest while I take a deep breath.

“I asked him how he felt. I was curious and medicated. Fuck! I am so sorry, B.”

He squeezes my hand carefully, “I think you better call him, babe. I think he needs to positively hear it from you that you are ok.”

Brendon's suggestion sits hollow in my chest. On one hand, Pete should know better than to take anything I said and turn it into something like that, especially if I was sleepy. On the other hand, he probably thought I was looking for a way to ask for help knowing that he has dealt with this. I want to be honest with Brendon about my panic attacks and my intrusive thoughts, and I was going to bring it up before the guys left, but now I think it's probably better to leave it alone. Brendon's heart has been torn to pieces so often lately, I don't want to destroy what is left.

“That's probably a good idea. I'll call him in a little bit. You wanna go see what kind of trouble Gabe and Bilvy are getting themselves into?”

Brendon laughs loudly, “A hundred bucks says they are both passed out in front of the TV. Did you see how many pancakes Gabe ate?”

I laugh too, “Yeah...I would be an idiot to take that bet,” I scoff at him. “But, fifty bucks says they fell asleep watching cartoons.”

“You're on!”

 

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon's past is catching up with him and with William and Gabe leaving soon, he is starting to wonder if he is doing the right thing. 
> 
>  
> 
> ** Chapter 33 is now published, as promised! Thank you for all of your encouraging comments over the past few months and thank you for not giving up on me. I have been struggling with this chapter for awhile, but I hope that you will enjoy it. It's intense, as will be the next chapter which I promise to have out sooner than this one. **

“We aren’t going away forever, ya know?” Gabe says, knocking his shoulder against mine. We’re sitting in the backyard against the one and lonely tree we happen to have. The shade, although minimal, is still inviting on a day like today where the sun is scorching us desert dwellers in Vegas. It's 10 am on Saturday - the temperature is very nearly 90 degrees and steadily climbing. My hair is sticking to the back of my neck, damp with sweat; I make a mental note to get a haircut soon.

“I know- I just... I love having you guys here,” I confess, sighing. Not that it is that much of a confession anyways; they obviously know we enjoy having them here. “You could move here!” I exclaim before I have a chance to think about what I am going to say. I close my mouth quickly, and I can't help but smile; it's not an entirely terrible idea.

Gabe laughs incredulously, “I _highly_ _doubt_ Bilvy will go for that- you know how much he enjoys the hippy dippy aspect of L.A.” I roll my eyes. It’s true; Bilvy is just _so_ organic and bullshit about some things. I used to think that it may have stemmed from his eating disorder, but honestly, it’s just his bohemian lifestyle. Art galleries and sushi bars, it’s all a little too posh for me. That is why he and Gabe get along so well; Gabe doesn’t mind any of that just as long as he can come home to William every day.

“Well, it’s not as if he couldn’t be a hippy asshole here in Vegas.” I retort.

“Noted,” Gabe, snorts. “I’ll be sure to ask him about it later,” he smiles and cocks his head to one side, his bangs hanging over his eyes as they stick to his forehead, “ You gonna be alright, Dall?”

I shrug, “ Yeah, of course. I mean, I’ve made it this far right?”

“You have, yes…” he says reluctantly.

“I will be fine, Gabe.”

“Ok, ok.” He says putting his hands up in mock surrender. “You’ll call though? If you need anything?”

“Yes, Dad… relax. Everything is fine.” I say with a smirk.

 

_He still doesn’t believe me, I can tell._

 

It’s now evening and despite my best attempts at thwarting it, I am in a mood that is borderline depressed and pissed off at the world. Something inside of my brain is insistent on making me miserable today and I am too tired to fight it right now. Bilvy and Gabe leave tomorrow and Spencer, Kenny, and Zack have come over to see them before they leave. Luckily, everyone seems too distracted with them to notice me moping around. I take the opportunity of not being 'watched' for a few minutes to slip into the house and out onto the front porch for a breather. I just need to get away from the noise of the backyard. I take a deep breath, sitting down slowly on the warm concrete step. I rest my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands, and sigh like a petulant child. I just need a few moments to myself. I am sad that they are leaving and I know that has a lot to do with the way I feel today, but truth be told, I've been a little 'off' for a few days. In the back of my mind, I know it has _everything_ to do with my meds; I just don't want to admit it to anyone besides myself. Hell, I even halfheartedly thought about going back on my previous dose again just to try to stop this incessant noise inside my head, but that is a trip down the rabbit hole that I have been attempting to climb out of.

My thoughts are too fast lately- too fuzzy and blurry inside my head. I couldn’t anchor them even if I tried and _I do try_. My thoughts, my feelings are taking over me in a way that feels like I have created a new version of myself only visible to me. I hide it well though, or at least I think I do. I have been stealing moments here and there to just _breathe;_ but with the album almost done- it's not very easy to do. I called Pete with Brendon standing next to me nervously biting his lip as if I wasn’t going to notice. I told him he was mistaken, I told him that I wasn’t implying that I wanted to die or anything of the sort. I told him that I was just out of my mind on sleeping pills and that I was sorry I caused him any worry, but that I really was fine. He accepted that explanation in what I can only assume was a moderate amount of duress. He “mhmm's” everything I say in that _Pete Wentz_ way that makes it seem that he thinks he knows everyone better than they know themselves and in all honesty, that could very well be true.

The truth is that ever since Pete told B that I wanted to kill myself, it's _all_ I have been thinking about. My thoughts wander throughout the day. I get fixated on it.

_What if I did it?_

_Fuck._

_What if I saved my meds again? Would B notice? Where would I hide them?_

_What the fuck is wrong with me, of fucking course he would know I wasn’t taking them!_

_Just breathe, Dall…_

I think back to the day I attempted. Piecing together the few details of that day that I can remember and even now, a small part of me sometimes wishes I had actually gone through with it. But, I chalk it all up to stress; suicidal ideation is something that is ingrained in my psyche. It used to happen a lot more when I was younger. I didn’t know that it wasn’t “normal” to think about killing yourself or thinking that it is your “way out” if things go badly. I think the first therapist I spoke to about that was a little worried that I thought everyone thought about it. It was especially evident when I first started trying to make a name for myself in the music industry. It's hard enough to be rejected day after day by record labels, but add in anxiety, depression, and OCD on top of that, and it's practically impossible to _not_ hit rock bottom emotionally at _least_ once a week. I have tried to brush it off- distract myself as much as I can, but it's only 2 months away from being exactly one year since all of this shit happened. Brendon has already been acting weird about it. He won’t talk about it though; not to me or the therapist or anyone.  I wish I could stop my brain- turn it off for a while and then turn it on when I needed it again. It's been exhausting the past few days and I want to tell Brendon or William or Gabe how I have been feeling, but I just don't want them to worry; _not that I have been able to stop them from worrying before._

The one “skill” I have utilized in the past year is that I can still fake a smile that appeases people enough to think I am 'Ok'; and _that_ has been my saving grace. More often than not lately, I find myself wanting to just run away from everything for a while. I want to pack a bag and leave- stay away until I can figure all of this and myself out. I want to stay awake all night and sleep all day. I want to be someone else for awhile. In reality, that will never happen. Their eyes are on me constantly and after the boys leave, it will just be Brendon and I at the house again. Maybe I can find something to distract myself from these feelings, but right now, I just want it to go away.

“Hey, Dall. You okay?” Spencer asks solemnly. I have no idea what answer is expected of me considering my current physical appearance, but I can do this. I can lie to my band mate, my friend. Why not? I have been doing it for so long that it just seems like second nature anymore anyways.

“Yeah. It was just getting a little loud back there and I have a headache. I was planning on coming back in a few minutes.” I ramble at him; fake smile plastered to my face. He cocks his head to one side, squints his eyes just a little as if he isn't quite convinced, but as long as he buys my faux  persona even just a little, I am in the clear.

“Yeah, they can get pretty loud. Is that it? Nothing else is bothering you?” He questions.

“Just a headache, Spence. No worries.” I lie to him, smiling the entire time. I feel lower than low, but I will not let him find me out. I have caused more than enough sadness and stress in his life.

“Ok, well... if you are sure...” His voice trails off waiting for an answer. His bright, blue eyes and white smile, not exactly hiding the fact that he is unsure of our conversation.

“Yep. One hundred percent sure.” I tell him firmly. He apparently accepts my insistence of normality as the only answer he is going to get and walks back into the house, shutting the screen door behind him.

It's obvious that he knows better than to believe any of that; I guess he figures I am safe with everyone around. I sigh once more, hanging my head again to find a little peace, some clarity from what is going on in my head before I join everyone again. I rest my hand on my thigh and it's as if my hand completed some sort of a circuit of singular obsession straight to my brain. One lone thought dangerously racing around my head; daring me to go against what I have been trying to suppress for so long. I try to summon some strength, some sort of hope from _somewhere_ in my body, but I don't have enough power to stop myself. I dig my fingertips into my thigh until I can feel the nail on my index finger slice into the tender flesh below. Not exceptionally hard, just enough to sting really, but it's not quite enough. I push just a little more _until the skin starts to go numb.That's the feeling that makes it all better._

There is a point, past the burning and stinging, when there _is no_ distinct feeling. The 'nothingness' that forms from it is cathartic; _it's soul cleansing_ and it's the feeling that makes all of it _so fucking addictive_. I quickly pull my hand away to stop myself from going any further. _I can't do this-_ I promised pretty much _everyone_ , but especially Brendon, that I wouldn't hurt myself again. My heart starts to race and I can feel the panic trying so hard to creep under my skin and take over. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and find the smallest droplet of ruby red blood trickling very slowly from the half moon indent of my fingernail. I distinctly notice that my thoughts have slowed to a crawl and in my moment of realization, I start to panic. It wasn't my intention to make myself bleed, nor was it my intention to actually hurt myself in the first place. In the rational part of my mind, I know it's a small wound and B probably won't even notice; it looks like nothing more than a scratch, really. However, in the irrational part of my mind, Brendon is hauling me to the Psychiatric Center downtown to be locked away forever. I quickly wipe the drop of blood away and I press into the “wound” to stop any subsequent blood that could surface. _How could I be so stupid?_ I shake my head as if I am trying to clear away the cobwebs. My thoughts are making me dizzy from spinning circles around my head and for the first time in a long time, I feel a little bit out of control. I sit for another minute unsure of exactly what to do. My chest is aching as I try to I breathe slowly; attempting to maintain any sort of control over anything right now. Life is going on around me, but I feel like I am in slow motion. I fumble for my phone in my pocket- who can I text? Who is the least likely to rat me out to Brendon if I just ramble at them for a while. At this point, I really don't know who can be trusted, so I text the only person who really understands me when I feel like this: _William._

“ _Need you.”_ I text him and set my phone next to me on the step. It chimes 30 seconds later.

“ _Where are you?”_ He asks.

“ _Front porch”_ I write back.

Less than a minute later, I hear the creak of the hinges as the door swings open, then shut again and in seconds, he is sitting next me. He pulls me into him and I wrap my arms around him as if I need to anchor myself to this very spot for fear of drifting too far.

“What's the matter, Dall?” His voice is soft and sweet, almost maternal.

_He is going to make a great Dad someday._

I don't say anything, I just sob into him as he pulls me closer and closer until all I can see and feel is the soft cotton of his tank top.

His voice is hushed, “Dall, do you want me to get Brendon?”

I shake my head no, “Just. Need. You. Right now.” I hiccup out to him.

“Ok, Ok. Shhh, Dall. It's going to be alright, “He reassures me and I _know_ it's a formality for him to say it, because I know right now he doesn't believe it. He knows where this is heading and he doesn't know how to stop it either. We’ve been down this road together a few times and even though he is on his way home to LA tomorrow, 3 hours away from me,I know in my heart that he would stay if I asked him to. “What happened?”

“I just- I don’t know. I am just really sad right now and I don’t know what to do about it. It won’t stop.” I ramble words at him faster than my brain is thinking about what I am saying- and then he says it, those words that I _want_ to answer honestly, but I can’t for fear of him telling Brendon or anyone for that matter.

“Dall? Do you want to hurt yourself?” He says it so quietly that I almost didn’t even hear him.  I shake my head ‘no’ and he kind of murmurs a ‘hmmm’ into my hair and squeezes me tighter.

“Dall, you’re going to be alright. I want you to take a big deep breath and let it out slowly, okay?” He can be really encouraging when he wants to be. I comply and begin to let go of him. He holds his hands on my shoulders, facing me- he is giving me _that look_.

“Gabe and I can stay a few more days if you want.” He offers.

I shake my head at him.“It’s not going to matter, Bilvy. I am fine, I just got emotional is all. I am ok, really.” At this point, I don’t know if I am trying to convince him or myself. I don’t want to have to lie to everybody about how I feel, but I can’t tell them what is going on with me either. It's a double edged sword, a catch 22., and regardless of that fact, I can’t let this shit win right now.

“I’m serious, Dall. Spence thought something might be going on with you. He told me you looked sad or like out of it.” He looks me dead in the eyes. I hate when he does that more than anything in the world because that means he is going to lay some ‘ _William Beckett words of wisdom’_ down and see how I react and I just can't do that right now. I just want him to hug me and tell me I am not as crazy as I feel, so I try to cut him off before he even starts.

“I will be fine, Bilvy. I promise. It just all kind of hit me right now is all.” I sniffle. I know he doesn’t believe me.

“Maybe you should come home with us? Maybe if you got out of Vegas for a while that would help.” He offers.

“You know I hate LA, Bilvy. It's too busy.” I counter.

He scoffs dramatically.“As if Vegas isn't!?”

“I am _used_ to this. Vegas is more like organized chaos,” I smile, genuinely this time.”Besides, we have to finish the album and Bren won’t want to travel anywhere until it is completely done.”

“Mmhmm. Well, the offer stands. Anytime you want to come visit, our door is open, okay?” He blinks and I notice the shine in his eyes, he is holding back tears.

_Why do I keep hurting the people that I love?_

“I will keep that in mind. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to ruin your day.” I tell him. He pats my back and hugs me again before standing up and helping me to my feet.

“Stop, that. You haven’t ruined anything. Are you ok going back in there?” He asks carefully.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look ok?”

William smirks.“You look fine, dude.”

“Ok, let's go before B starts to wonder where I am.” I say reluctantly. He opens the screen door and as soon as I step back into the house, my brain starts whirring thoughts around again and I take a deep breath. My skin chills, covering  my arms in goosebumps- even in this heat. I don't know how much longer I can keep this charade going. As much as I don't want to admit it- to myself or anyone else, that for the first time in a long time, I am fighting this battle that I am almost certain I won’t win. I plaster a fake smile onto my face and I find Brendon in the backyard talking with Zack and Spencer. I slip comfortably into Brendon’s arms as he extends them out to me, drawing me closer. He makes me feel safe, but I know that as soon as he lets me go, the insecurities of my life will try their best to swallow me whole.

He taps my side playfully, his long, thin fingers dancing carefully on my rib cage. I smile at him and rest my head on his. I wish he could fix this hurricane of moods inside me, but how could someone fix me if I can’t even explain it? He has no idea what is really going on inside my head because I really can’t verbalize it. I have spent so much time lost in my insecurities, lost in the anxiety of what people think of me, what they think of the band, that I don’t even know who I really am anymore. When B and I met, I thought that I had found a small part of me that we could rebuild everything from. Recreate the best parts of myself and try to forget about the rest of it, but I let these thoughts take over and it’s not long before I am back to where I started. The best way to describe all of this is that despite my confidence that I thought I could do this with less medication,there is a very good chance that I am wrong, but I also too damn proud to admit I am completely under-medicated and extremely overwhelmed.  All therapists will tell you that you can have bad days, fuck that- you _will_ have bad days, and that the most important thing is to just keep going because eventually it will get better. I have no clue what the demons in me are planning to do- where they will take me- and I although all of these people, especially B, have been my recourse in the past year, it may not be enough this time. _Fuck it_. I think reaching for Brendon’s beer and downing the rest of the bottle before he has time to say anything. I set the bottle back in front of him, smirking at Zack who looks equally as confused as B does since I very rarely drink since last year. Brendon just sighs, laughing quietly looking back at me fondly.

“I’ll get you another one, babe.” I finally say, winding myself out of his arms.

He smiles, brightly “Thank you, Dall. Love you!”

“Love you too, B” I say, rolling my eyes, playfully. I grab the empty bottle and take it with me into the kitchen setting it on the counter near the garage to recycle later. I reach for the handle of the refrigerator, but out of the corner of my eye I notice the bottom drawer of the island is partially ajar which is slightly odd because all that is in that drawer is extension cords and guitar picks. As I lean forward to close it, I see the telltale orange color of a medicine bottle peeking out from in between two cords and my heart almost stops- _this is where he has been keeping my meds for the past year._ He knows there is a very slim chance I would need anything in here. Suddenly, I feel like a kid who got caught trying to figure out his Christmas presents by shaking them. Half of me is screaming to close the drawer, grab the beer out of the fridge, and walk back outside. The other half is daring me to investigate. I stand there actually contemplating my next move until I hear the patio door slide open and someone walking into the guest bathroom. I quickly close the drawer with my foot, grab the beer, and make my escape back out to the patio.

“I thought you got lost in there somewhere.” Brendon says, jokingly.

“Yeah,” I laugh, “ Something like that.”

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon's feeling overwhelmed and anxious and with Gabe and Bilvy leaving for home, it definitely doesn't help matters....
> 
>  
> 
> **Sorry this took so long, lovelies! Thank you so much for sticking with me!!**

I can feel Bilvy’s eyes on me from across the yard, but he plays it cool as always- pretending as if I _didn’t_ just have a mini meltdown on my front porch. His long, brown hair is pulled up into a messy bun and Gabe is draped around his neck like a his favorite scarf. _Gabe will always be his favorite accessory, even in the summer heat._ I take a minute to really look at him. He has come a long way in the last 5 years. He was barely 95 pounds, soaking wet, when I met him. At the time, his eating disorder, coupled with his already overwhelming anxiety and depression were wreaking havoc on his body and his mind. Today he looks 20 times healthier than he has ever been and I probably don’t tell him enough, but I am so fucking proud of how far he has come.

I watch as he tilts his head back; whispering something into Gabe’s ear as he leans down mouthing and kissing at Bill’s neck. He nuzzles at him sweetly, but suddenly stills and as soon as his head raises- Gabe’s expression changes. He nods slightly and his face falls. My skin chills and I shoot Bilvy a look as if to say “ _what the fuck?_ ” to which he responds back by smiling at me like the petulant child he is and simply resumes his previous conversation. The thing about Bilvy is that, I love him and I really do appreciate how he always tries to “figure me out”, but now all I am feeling is regret setting in and I want to take back everything that I just said to him- as I usually do. I should have just taken a few more minutes to calm myself without involving him.

 

_Like he needs more of a reason to worry about me._

 

My stomach suddenly flips, violently and I am being reminded right now that anxiety, beer, and heat do _not_ mix and I take a deep breath so I don't throw up.

 

_I am safe, I am alive, I am not hurting myself, and I have not done anything stupid...yet._

 

I park myself next to Brendon again at the patio table, trying hard not to let on that something is wrong; more so, I am trying to will myself to forget I saw those fucking pills. I can’t get this out of my head. Those stupid fucking orange bottles that I _only_ see on the day we pick them up from the pharmacy. For the next 29 days after, the pills seemingly appear out of thin air because Brendon keeps them hidden. Its ridiculous- all of this, but my thoughts are incessant.

 

_I wonder if he has always kept them there or if he moves them around the house every once in awhile?_

_I wonder if he discards the meds that don’t work for me or if he keeps them in another place just in case they are needed again?_

_How many pills are in this house?_

_How many pills are in this house?!_

Those seven words are echoing in my head at an alarming rate.

 

My thoughts are all over the place; like a spider building a web, anchoring here and there- growing stronger and even more intricate before I can even really focus on any of them. I glance over to Bilvy once more, he and Gabe have retreated to the other side of the yard, away from the rest of the group- those _sneaky_ bastards. _They are probably up to something._ I sigh. Moments later, Spencer decides to join us at the table, adequately blocking my view of Gabe and Bilvy, _Spencer must be in on it too,_ I think. My whole world feels tilted and turned upside down right now and I am not sure how to fix it- or even if it can be fixed. I pull my phone out and text Bilvy.

“ _What are you two doing over there?”_ I tap out, quickly while I stretch- moving just enough to see past Spencer who, in all honesty, _makes a better door than a window._ Bilvy takes his phone out of his pocket, shaking his head at the screen, and hands it to Gabe as I pretend not to watch. My phone chimes and I wait 30 or so seconds to casually pick it up and examine the screen.

“ _I am TRYING to make babies with my boyfriend in your backyard...whhhhhhhy!?_ ” It reads. I snicker at that, Gabe is such a fucker sometimes.

“ _No reason. Have fun you two!”_ I respond, only this time I turn my phone off and slip it into my pocket, if they need me, they are going to have to come and talk to me in person.

Brendon glances at me, eyebrows arched quizzically and his rosy cheeks are aglow even over his tanned skin. I smile sweetly, allowing him the satisfaction of thinking everything is just fine. I know in the back of my head that everything I am feeling right now is irrational- _all of it._ I know how my brain likes to trick me into thinking everything and _everyone_ is against me, but what if it isn't fully tricking me; what if something really _is_ going on behind my back? I shake the thought from my brain- I just want to get through tonight and make sure that Bilvy and Gabe know I am ok so that they can _go back home_ and stop worrying about me.

Brendon leans into me, “Are you okay, baby?” His voice is so soft and quiet- so only _I_ can hear him. He squeezes my hand, brushing his thumb along mine; I’ll never get tired of him being so sweet.

 

“I’m fine, B,” I chuckle, “Why?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know. You just seemed like you zoned out for a few minutes, that’s all.” He looks up at me through his lashes, scoots forward to rest his forehead against mine, and kisses me softly on the lips. It is such a sweet and simple gesture, but he knows it makes me melt every time.

 

“I’m good, I promise.” I tell him in hopes to reassure him.

He nods acknowledgment and turns to talk with the others while I zone back out again, sipping at my beer and watching the sun fall over the tree line.

 

The heat of the day is starting to dissipate some as the night moves on; it’s still very warm, but in the desert you take what you can get. Brendon is curled around me in our bright blue lounge chair. He isn’t drunk, but he is definitely buzzed; which I don’t mind- he deserves a night of relaxation. It's not an easy task having to worry about recording and mixing the album all while trying to keep me “out of trouble”, he really deserves a medal for this shit. Bilvy and Gabe are lying next to each other in the grass and in the faint glow of the patio light; I can see them sharing sweet smiles and laughing quietly. Zack and Kenny left about 15 minutes ago while Spencer is asleep on the couch in the music room after an afternoon of too much sun and _far too much_ to drink- both of which he will more than likely regret upon waking. Brendon gently wraps his thin arm around my waist, pulling me in a little closer, a whisper of warm breath on the back of my neck as he nuzzles into my hairline. He is carefully adjusting his position behind me, just a small amount of friction, but I can feel he is hard. I chuckle to myself, but I don't know if I feel up to any sexual shenanigans tonight, my brain is a little overloaded at the moment.

“Babe!” I whisper, laughing. “Quit that!”

“Whaaaaaat?” he says, drawing out the word like a histrionic teenager. I laugh at him and take his hand in mine, interlocking our fingers.

“Not tonight, B. Okay?”

“Okay. I love you.” Those three words, no matter how he says it, are always sincere.

“I love you too, Bren. You know that, right?” I ask him.

“Duh, Dall.” He goes quiet for a minute before I can hear and feel his breathing change and I know he is asleep; another victim of the heat and alcohol. I stealthily disengage his arm from around my waist so I can stand and stretch my limbs. Being tall is _no fun_ when you are trying to spoon with your boyfriend on a lounge chair that barely fits one person-you tend to wind up in weird, contorted positions that are near impossible to detangle yourself from.

 

Bilvy sees me stand to stretch, “Where ya going, Dall?” He says in a hushed tone, although I doubt Brendon would wake up right now even if he hadn't.

“I just have to pee, warden.” I say, rolling my eyes.

As I reach the patio door, I can hear him whisper to Gabe and I have a feeling that one of the two won't be too far behind me once I am in the house. I just pretend as if I am not in the slightest bit bothered that he doesn’t trust me. Although, internally it pisses me off to no end. I slide the patio door open, glancing quickly at the almost blinding, bright blue clock on the stove top. It's just a few minutes after midnight, which surprises me as it feels much, much later. I peak in at Spencer on my way to the bathroom; I want to make sure he is sleeping on his side, just in case. I can kinda make out his silhouette in the moonlight. His head is on the arm of the couch, his body stretched out on his stomach and he looks fine, but I will check on him again before we go to bed.

I finish relieving myself, wash my hands, and while I am reaching for the hand towel to dry them with I suddenly catch myself staring at this person in the mirror that is supposed to be me, _but looks nothing like how I used to_. The dark circles and bags under my eyes age me _at least_ 10 years. I do a double take thinking my eyes are just playing tricks on me, but I very quickly realize that I am seeing what everyone else _must_ be seeing and it’s honestly a little frightening. I frown and gaze cautiously at my reflection for a few seconds before it hits me- I look like my father did in all those photographs after he and my mother started having children. All you see are his tired, sunken eyes that would _kill_ for 30 minutes of sleep evident in every picture in their photo albums. But he had an excuse, he had _kids_ to look after and support and tend to. All _I_ have to tend to are all the demons renting space in my head. Living this life of mental hell can take its toll- and I am almost at the end of what I can manage. I take a deep breath and open the door where I abruptly, but not surprisingly, run right into Bilvy who seems to have been standing there listening to me the whole two minutes it took me to pee, wash my hands, and have a small existential crisis.

 

“It's all yours.” I tell him, waving my hand in the general direction of the door frame like a game show host.

 

He smirks while rolling his eyes, “You ok?” He says, while attempting to not sound like an asshole.

 

“Yes? Dude, I just had to pee; are there rules against me going to the bathroom by myself now?” My tone is slightly annoyed, but I am being mostly lighthearted.

 

“I was just checking on you, Dall- you haven't answered any of my texts all night.” He says, pursing his lips into that famous William Beckett pout and firmly placing his hands on his hips.

 

“Oh, I didn't hear it,” I say, reaching to get my phone from my pocket, “Because it turned itself off somehow...” I show him.

 

“Oh... Well, ok then, try to keep it on, please?” He semi pleads with me.

 

“You know it's normally on. I didn't know it was off, Bilvy.” Which is a _fucking lie_ because I turned it off on purpose, but he doesn’t need to know that, right? I make sure to show him it is on after it powers up and true to his word; he has sent me _ten_ text messages.

 

“Ten texts, really!?” I laugh, rolling my eyes, “I was only 15 feet away from you all night!”

 

“Ok, ok. I'm sorry, no worries.” He concedes, with a small chuckle.

 

“You have to stop worrying, Beckett. I am fine. You and Gabe are going to go home tomorrow and find some sort of semblance of a normal life and I will be here… being watched… like a hawk… by Brendon,” I smile and put my arm around his shoulders, “Everything will be just fine, okay?”

“Okay...” He says, with a noticeable air of uncertainty.

I grab his arm, dragging him back out to the patio with me; only releasing him once we have safely crossed the threshold and the door has fully closed behind us. He- almost reluctantly- wanders back over to Gabe who immediately looks relieved for some reason. In this very moment, I have no real way to explain how I am feeling except that my brain and my body are so fucking tired and I, for once, just want to sleep for as long as I can.

Gabe stands as Bilvy helps him off the ground, and they amble up the stone path towards the house. As they climb the steps of the patio, Gabe yawns and half heatedly waves. Bilvy laughs and says goodnight from the both of them before shutting the patio door behind them.

I sit back down on the lounge chair that Brendon has seemed to have now made some sort of permanent residence on. I watch him for a few minutes, his chest slowly rising and falling with every quiet snore. His soft lips slightly parted, but still pouty. I gently brush the hair out of his eyes. He is safely tucked away in a dream and I am awake almost against my will, feeling as if I am starting to live in a nightmare again.

“Bren,” I whisper, as I shake his shoulder, gently. “Bren, baby, wake up.” His eyes open and he looks at me, confused.

“Bren, we need to get up and go to bed, okay? Everyone else is asleep already.” I tell him as he closes his eyes again. “Oh, no, no, no,” I laugh, “Brendon, for real- get up!” I nag at him again. His eyes slowly open a slight smirk on his adorable face. “You are such a dork!” I laugh at him. “Come on, do you need help up?” I ask, offering him my hand.

 

He opens his mouth and pauses, thinking for a moment.“Yes, please.” He says, softly. As he extends his arm towards my hand. I help him to his feet and we make our way back inside. I lock the kitchen door as he locks the front door and sets the alarm. I check in on Spencer again- he somehow managed to make his way to the floor from the couch at some point; if it was purposeful or accidental, that I am not sure of. Either way, I decide to move the trashcan over to where he can reach it if he needs to, leave a bottle of water on the floor next to it, and plug his phone into the extra charger by the piano before I head upstairs to the bedroom. Brendon appears in the bedroom about a minute after I do, sleepily stumbling towards the other side of the room. I watch him carefully while he braces himself on the door frame, reaching into his side of the closet, fumbling with something before he finally pulls out a pair of shorts to sleep in and climbs into our bed. I decide to sleep in my boxers; I don't feel like rummaging through the dresser for sleep pants. I unbutton my shorts, sliding them down my pale legs, gathering them off the floor after I step out from the leg holes, and throw them in the general direction of the hamper in the corner. As I climb into the soft cushion of our bed, B snuggles in next to me; he has _always been a snuggler._ It could be 9,000 degrees outside and he would want to curl up under a blanket and snuggle. It’s not such a terrible thing though; at least it makes me feel as if I matter to him.

“Goodnight, babe.” He says, stifling a yawn.

“Night, B.” I say, kissing him on the forehead before he turns over onto his stomach; I can almost count the seconds out loud before he is asleep. He is one of those annoying types that can fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. Even as a child, I could never do that. I would lay awake for hours in my bedroom to the point of tears because I couldn’t sleep, it was terrible. Insomnia has followed me around for my entire life. That coupled with anxiety, depression, and a few other maladies thrown in, it's nearly impossible to sleep any longer. I try to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. Sometimes I even try the trick that Pete taught me where you hold your breath until all you can hear is your heartbeat and you try to just focus on the rhythm. It’s comforting, but it never lulls me to sleep. It’s all the racing my thoughts are doing in my head that is keeping me awake even though I am so damn tired.

 

I give myself until 3:30 am before I call it quits on actively trying to fall asleep. Brendon has been asleep for at least 2 hours; I can’t lay here any longer listening to him snore. I gingerly slip out of bed so I don’t wake him and go downstairs to watch TV. The house is quiet except for the occasional snore coming from the music room, and although Spencer will never admit to it, he snores like a truck driver when he is super tired. It’s pretty obvious by the way he is snoring now, he must have been exhausted. Being on tour with people in such small spaces, you tend to notice quirks that most people wouldn’t. Like how Kenny has to have quiet to fall asleep, so he always wears his headphones or in-ears on the bus. Zack has a certain pillow that he has been bringing on every tour since he has been with Panic!. He swears it's a “good luck thing”; I think it just reminds him of home. I saunter over to the couch and grab the teal knitted blanket off the back to use as a pillow. I pick up the remote, flipping through the entire TV lineup _at least 3 times_ before I settle on an infomercial about rain gutters or sealant or something like that. Whatever it is, it’s better than nothing and sometimes boring repetitive things help me to not think so much- _sometimes._

 

20 minutes later, the infomercial has ended and I am still restless. It’s 4am and I am so fucking tired of not being able to sleep. It’s pointless now to wake Brendon up and ask for something to help me sleep; I should have done it hours ago and I am now kicking myself for not doing it. The boys leave in a few hours and I at least want to be lucid enough to say goodbye. I contemplate going back upstairs, but that would probably only wake Brendon up too. Instead, I lay on the couch contemplating the last year of my life. From the end of tour, to my attempt, to falling _more_ in love with Brendon, to recording a new album; it all starts to feel surreal to me. How did this become my life? It’s as if all of this happened without me even being fully aware of it and the more I think about it, the more anxious I am becoming. My chest is feeling tighter and my heart is beating like a kick drum lodged in my rib cage. I sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of the couch and firmly plant my feet on the tile floor. I can’t have a panic attack right now, _I can’t_. I take a deep breath and hold it. I take another, I count to ten; it helps, but it’s not enough. I stand and pace a few feet from the couch unsure of what the hell I should do and that's when I realize I actually _thought_ my way into a fucking anxiety attack.

 

_I am so fucking stupid sometimes._

In this moment of fucking ridiculous anxiety, I do the only thing I can think of: I take the tender skin on the inside of my left arm and I pinch as hard as I can. The jolt of pain almost buckles my knees. I somehow shuffle backward enough to sit down on the edge of the couch again. I momentarily loosen my grip on the flesh between my finger and my thumb and pinch again- this time I pinch even harder. I let go after 20 or so seconds, when the pain starts to burn less; I have to sit back on the couch to catch my breath. I am so overwhelmed and slightly ashamed in this moment that I can feel the start of hot tears streaming down my face. I wipe my face with the back of my hand and rest it on my chest over my heart which has finally stopped pounding. The whirring of thoughts in my head have now slowed to a more gentle swirling and in my moment of pain-induced clarity, I grab the pen and notebook next to me and start furiously scribbling _everything_ in my head right now. Every single word and phrase that has been bouncing back and forth in my head for weeks, months even, is effortlessly pouring out of my pen. Before long, I have covered two full pages front and back. I stop and stare, catching my breath. Somehow, I feel more productive now in just the last few minutes, than I have felt in months! I stop and flip back to the first page. The first line reads: “ _These words are knives that often leave scars”._ I genuinely smile to myself, laying the notebook on my chest and lean back on the couch. My eyelids feel weighted and my anxiety has diminished to a more tolerable level. It’s as if every single thing I have wanted to convey into words has _finally_ made sense enough _or not_ to write down. Come hell or high water, something creative is going to come from all the bullshit I have been through; at least that’s what I hope.

My eyes are still closed, but I can vaguely feel someone shaking me. I must have finally fallen asleep. I slowly open my eyes.

“There’s my Dall,” Brendon says softly, smoothing his fingers through my unwashed hair. “Time to get up, babe. The boy’s taxi should be here in a few.” He offers me his hand and when I sit up, the black and white notebook falls out from underneath the blanket landing on the floor.

 

B laughs, “Doing some obscure midnight writing?” He teases. I nod my head sleepily; I forgot I even wrote it. I pick it up and shove it behind me.

“You don’t want me to read it?” He says holding out his gorgeous lips in a pout.

I grin which evolves into a wide mouthed yawn, “Later baby. I don’t even know what kind of half-asleep things I wrote, we’ll take a look at it after the boys leave, okay?”

 

“Okay.” He murmurs, kissing my forehead. Soon after, Gabe and Bilvy are bringing their bags into the foyer. My heart sinks in my chest. I know they have lives to get back to, but I have been dreading this moment. I have gotten so used to having them around.

 

“Taxi said they would be here in few.” Gabe says, with an almost somber tone in his voice. His mannerisms are very “un-Gabe” like. He’s quiet and calm, which even this early in the morning is _not_ like him. I hate it.

“Let’s get this out of the way so we don’t waste the taxi driver’s time.” Bilvy suggests, walking towards me with his arms wide open. His long, thin arms pull me into a rib crushing hug and I mimic the sentiment.

“Be good, dude. You are doing so, so well. I am so fucking proud of you. Love you.” He whispers to me.

“Love you too.” I try to say as my voice betrays me and cracks. I know he is going to cry and I _hate_ when he cries. I hate when _anyone_ cries. He pulls away from me and wipes a small tear away from his eye with the back of his hand, laughing at the sappiness of it all.

“None of that, William!” Gabe, says with a mock authoritative tone, “I did _not_ want to cry today and now look at me!” Gabe pouts as he too wipes his eye. I wipe mine too, I have always been a ‘sympathy crier’.

“You three are _so_ fucking lame!” Brendon says with a sniffle and everyone laughs, ending the sad tension in the room. Gabe gives Brendon a hug and then he and Bilvy switch. Gabe leans in close and we embrace for a few seconds.

 

“You have my number; you know you can call me, text, skype, or whatever the cool kids are doing these days, ok? Call Pete, call Bilvy, call anyone if you need someone, we are always here, okay? Love you, Dall.” He says, in his “Dad” voice, tousling the back of my hair with his fingers.

“I know. Thank you for being here and keeping us company. I really missed you both so much. Love you, Gabe.”

The faint beep, beep, beep of the Taxi’s horn outside officially ends our goodbyes as they pick up their bags and walk out onto the porch.

“Call us when you land, ok?” I call after them.

“Will do, Dall.” Gabe shouts before climbing into the backseat of the taxi. Bilvy leans over Gabe to wave from the window. Brendon and I stand there, waving at the taxi like we are sending our kids off to college. It’s all very quaint and suburban. As soon as the taxi rounds the corner, we both sigh and walk back inside the house. Brendon pulls me close to him wrapping his arms around my waist. “Are you okay?” he asks, tucking his face into my neck.

I rest my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, I guess. Are you?” I mumble.

“I’m alright, I just hate goodbyes, ya know?” He says, softly.

I nod against him because, I _do_ know. I know that ever since last year, he won’t really say it. He says, “see you later” or “see you soon”, but he doesn’t usually say goodbye and _that is because of me_. We stand in the doorway for a few seconds longer, holding onto each other tightly. His arms are wrapped firmly around me as if he never wants to let go. I can feel his heart beating in his chest because he is pressed so closely. I pull him even tighter to me and nuzzle into his neck. He turns his head just enough to be able to kiss me sweetly on the cheek and I reciprocate the favor as he looks into my eyes and smiles. He finally pulls away and leads me back to the sofa, picking up the notebook I had scribbled on just a few hours ago.

“Can I read it _now_?” He begs.

I shrug, “I guess. I wrote it so quick- I didn’t really read over it. So, if there is anything weird, chalk it up to being sleep deprived?” I say with an exhausted laugh.

Brendon just looks at me, rolls his eyes, and starts to read every line until he finishes what I have written.

He turns towards me, shifting his entire body until he is facing me, “Dall?” his voice is somber and he grabs my hand. I am instantly anxious.

“Hmmm?” is all I can get to come out right now. His eyes meet mine and he smiles slyly.

“Dall, this is fucking amazing!” He says lunging towards me and hugging me.

I laugh because, I wasn’t expecting that sort of a reaction from him over _anything_ I have written.

“You think?” I say as he is is trying to kiss me.

“Yes! Oh, my fucking god, yes! Let’s go wake up Spencer!” He says, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet.

“Babe!” I say loudly, trying to get him to stop, “Let Spencer sleep a little longer. It’s ok, we can show him later.” I anchor my feet to the tile floor and he stops short and turns towards me, with a huge grin on his face.

“You sure? This is a pretty big fucking deal, Dall.”

“I’m sure. Let’s go lay down, okay? I am so fucking tired.” I look over at the clock on the wall by the front door, it’s only 7am anyways.”

“I guess.” He concedes.

I pull him up the stairs with me to the bedroom, “It will still be there in a few hours, Bren. Snuggle with me?” I plead playfully. He shrugs, sets his glasses down on his nightstand and climbs in behind me draping his arm over my waist. It’s a sense of security I didn’t even realize I needed until I met him.

“I love you Dallon Weekes, you know that, right?” I hear him whisper.

“Mhmm. Love you, B.”

I wake up slowly to the sound of Brendon’s voice. He is standing somewhere near the foot of the bed quietly talking on his phone. “Well, what did you expect? Bilvy hates flying- I am surprised he didn’t ask to rent a car, to be honest.” He chuckles. He is obviously taking to Gabe- which means they made it back to LA alright. It's less than an hour flight from Vegas which is definitely not bad considering Gabe just got back from Uruguay which is somewhere around 15+ hours one way. I yawn stretching my arms above my head for a minute before turning back over when I hear Brendon say quickly,“Hey, uh, um, glad you guys made it back, I have to go, talk to you soon. Bye.” hanging up abruptly. I really don’t think anything of it. I figure he probably has to go to the bathroom, but then I hear him as he slowly walks to his side of the bed, climbing onto the top of the duvet where he sits down next to me. He pulls my arm towards him very gently. I laugh thinking he is just trying to be cute, but when I turn over and look at him- he isn’t laughing. In fact, he is quite visibly upset for some reason. I kind of stare at him until he lifts his head slowly and  as his eyes meet mine, he pulls my arm out towards him and lifts the cuff of my T-shirt. My whole body goes cold as I realize what the hell is going on.

“What are these, Dallon?” He asks in almost a whisper.

He starts to speak again and falters, finally breathing out, “I didn’t put those there, did you?”

I turn my head and he is pointing at the two bruises on the upper part of my arm; they are _much_ larger than I anticipated. I thought they would be- at most, the size of a nickel or a dime; they are at _least_ the size of a golf ball and now I have to explain this to Brendon.

All I can manage to say is,  “Oh, fuck...”


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dallon's mistake may just be his saving grace...

_What the hell did I do?!_

A sudden bolt of panic runs through me that I have _never_ felt - on _any_ level. Truthfully, even though _I_ know that what I did was relatively harmless in the entire scheme of things, I don’t even have a tiny inkling about how Bren is going to react. The way he is looking at me right now, I know nothing good can come from this mess that I keep getting myself into. His eyes flicker briefly, connecting with mine for a second before quickly glancing away. It’s a telltale sign that he is trying to think of something to say- which is noticeably rare for him. I however, am no better at this than he. I try to speak. I open my mouth, my tongue perched waiting for its cue to articulate, but the words just don’t come. I wish that I could think of a _single_ _thing_ to say that would make this acceptable in his eyes. Something, _anything_ to stop his heart and his brain from being so fucking disappointed in me. I search his face instead for any semblance of understanding... and I find nothing. My heart drops and at least a minute or two of awkward silence has passed before I finally start to try to squeak out an apology. As my mouth starts to open,  his brown eyes grow wide and he holds up his hands in a dramatic, frustrated gesture.

“Well?!” His voice filled with exasperation; he is completely done with my bullshit and I don’t honestly blame him.

If I play it off as nothing, maybe he will drop it and we can move on with our day. “I-I um... was just anxious, that’s all. _It’s really not that big of a deal..._ ” I murmur, trying to outwardly remain as calm as I can- the act of it almost feels _foreign_ to me.

_I am never calm._

_I am always on edge._

_I am always anxious._

_I do stupid things._

_I make people worry._

_I am stupid, stupid, stupid!_

In the few seconds I have to ponder this, I still can’t decide if I am doing any of this for my benefit or Brendon’s. The truth is that I don’t care about myself, or any of this shit, as much as Brendon does. In fact, I generally tend to feel guilty that he cares so much about me. My brain isn’t helping anything right now because all of that guilt manifests itself into a bigger tangle of intrusive thoughts.

_He should have just left me on the floor of my bathroom._

_We both know he would have been better off._

“That’s all?! That’s bullshit, Dallon!” His voice echos loudly around the room. He’s not shouting, but it’s definitely loud enough to startle me. “How can you sit here and tell me it's _not_ a big deal?! Am I just supposed to be okay with this, Dallon? What if it wasn’t _just_ bruises, Dall? What if you-” He stops himself before he says it, but he may as well have. He instead swallows an audible gasp that I don’t think even _he_ was expecting. Tears slowly begin trickling down his cheek. His eyes are staring straight into mine, glistening as he takes a moment to compose himself.

_I caused this... yet again._

_Why do I always seem to hurt him?_

_Why do I hurt everyone?_

He brings his hands up, slowly pulling his fingers through the strands of his messy, brown locks. He eventually sighs, his head dropping downward in a defeated gesture. That’s the thing with Brendon, he is always so positive and centered that when his world is halted by some sort of upset, it takes over him like a metaphorical black cloud. He processes sadness, anxiety, every emotion so differently than I do that we find ourselves frustrated a lot of the time for not being able to see it right away or to comfort the other properly. Right now though, he is so _obviously_ upset- that I just want to disappear into thin air forever; I hate being the one that causes him any sort of pain or sadness, god knows I have done enough of that for a lifetime. He finally breathes out a shaky breath, “S-so you _hurt_ yourself?” His voice a broken whisper as he sniffles, wiping a tear away from his pink cheeks.

“No, B. I- mean, _yes_ , but no-I,” I sigh, groaning loudly. I am more than frustrated at my brain’s lack of focus. I grab his arm tightly, “I don’t know what the fuck you want me to say! It’s not like _that_. I just needed to clear my head. I have _never_ done that to myself before. This wasn’t to _hurt_ or _punish_ myself, I promise. It’s just a fucking bruise, Brendon.” My heart is racing. It feels like at any moment he is going to pick up his phone, call my therapist, and I am going to be sitting in the psychiatric unit pleading my case to deaf ears- I actually feel myself start to shake at the thought. I never want to be back there ever again.

_How could I be so stupid!?_

_Of fucking course he is going to be pissed at me!_

Warm tears are beginning to leak from my eyes, stinging at the corners. I am _so_ ashamed and embarrassed, but I am also _very_ angry at myself. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_ I try to hide from his worried expression, burying my face in my hands, but he is quick to gently guide them away.

Taking a breath, he softly whispers, “They aren’t _just_ bruises, Dall.”

I look away from him, I can’t do this right now. “Babe,” He says, “Look at me, please? I’m sorry I raised my voice with you; I am not mad, I promise. Just- _please_ tell me what was going on that you gave yourself these bruises?” He lovingly brushes his fingers through my hair- wiping a stray tear from my cheek as I try to cover my face again, but with the crook of my elbow. I suddenly have an overwhelmingly desperate desire for the bed to somehow open up and swallow me whole; to fall into the abyss of nothingness. _Anything_ to save me from having this conversation right now; or _ever_ if I am being honest.

_One could only hope._

“Babe, why are you trying to cover your face? I _love_ your face; it’s a _very_ _cute face_ that I would like to try to have a conversation with.” He says teasing, as he navigates his fingers to interlace with mine, resting them in a firm knot between us. His hands are cold, slightly damp; _he is nervous_ and now I feel immensely worse than I did before.

“I don’t like to see you u-upset, especially if I-I made it happen.” I hiccup, as more tears slowly pave a wet trail down my cheeks. “You don’t have to apologize for raising your voice, Bren; I get it, I _get_ it. _I understand, okay?_ Big fucking surprise- I kinda fucked all of this up... _again_.”

“Dallon, I am _not_ upset with you, okay? I am a little surprised, _kinda_ worried, but I am not upset with _you_. Honestly, I am upset because no matter what we try to do, we are struggling some days to keep you afloat and I _know_ you are trying your hardest, baby. Tell me what happened, okay?” His voice is very quiet and I w _ould rather be anywhere else but here right now._

I groan again with frustration, “I- I couldn’t fucking sleep last night so I went downstairs to watch TV. I started to think about all the shit that happened this year- it made me really anxious because, yes, sometimes I still feel like I don’t fucking want to be here. It was a stupid thing to do. I didn’t think-just did it. I felt better after I wrote all that of that shit out, but I guess I fell asleep afterwards. It was- it was like I hit a fucking ‘ _reset button’_ , Bren!  I could breathe again and all of the stupid, nagging _bullshit_ in my head actually _disappeared_ for a few minutes. I was able to get everything floating around in my head- _out_! I haven’t been able to do that in such a long fucking time. I was able to focus on getting those _words_ out of my head without second guessing myself. I know you know how that feels, B.” I ramble, wiping my tear stained face on our blanket. He looks at me, cocking his head to the side as if he is trying to figure me out- a little like a confused puppy; which is ironically the same look that made me fall in love with him not that long ago; _go figure_.

“Dall, we’ve been through this baby, you can come wake me up- fuck, wake _anyone_ up if that happens, okay? I don’t care what time it is and neither does anyone else. I know everything has been very overwhelming for you lately, I just don’t want you to get back into the mind frame that _hurting yourself_ is an option.”

In this very moment, I am somehow _just_ realizing that through _all_ of the therapy sessions, all of the conversations we have had, all the stupid articles and books he has read- that he has _never_ picked up on the fact that my brain, will _always_ sneak that in as an option. No matter what medication I am on or what new age bullshit I try next, I may not act on it, but it will always be a low-key “Plan B” in the back of my head. As much as I _never_ want to think about it again, I know it will always be there. I want to _scream_ this at him sometimes because while he “gets it”, he really _doesn’t_ get this at all. He is such a _saint_ \- he has so much faith, love, and trust in this- _in me_ , I am afraid he won’t _ever_ see that. Truth be told, I will probably never tell him either- for all of those very same reasons.

I must have zoned out for a minute because I suddenly just see him slowly waving his hand in front of my eyes to get my attention.

“Hey love, are you-”

I shake my head, gently trying to clear the cobwebs in my brain so that I can speak without tripping over my words. I hold up one finger, pressing it gently against his lips, I need him to quit talking so I can stop this conversation, “Just- let me say this- I’m really sorry, Bren. Not that it makes any of this “ _okay”_ , but I need you to know that I _am_ sorry for doing it. I didn’t think about the repercussions, I was just caught up in my own head… again. That being said, I would _really_ like to stop talking about it now though, please?”

He sighs, “I get that, but _I_ need to talk this out with you, okay? I would really love it if you could just tell me what’s going on in that head of yours sometimes. I know it’s not easy for you and I respect that, but _please_ baby, I need to know what's really going on. Okay? Maybe we can come to some sort of temporary solution? Like if you need to take your anxiety meds at night for a few nights; we can do that. Or if you want to take your meds to help you sleep, maybe that will help give your brain a rest?” He suggests, almost desperately and bless him- he does try so damn hard. Which makes me feel even more guilty for all of this.

I shake my head slowly, “It’s fine Bren, I can’t explain it any more than I already have; I am just really sorry I disappointed you.” I disentangle my fingers from his and start to sit up. I _need_ to leave this room because all I seem to do is hurt him and I am _so_ _fucking done_ with this conversation. He instead takes my hand in his again, gripping tightly, and tugs me back down to the bed.

“Here we go again,” he sighs, “Dallon James, you will _never, ever_ disappoint me, okay? I just want to help keep you safe. I love you too much to let anything happen to you.”

_This is is getting ridiculous!_

I have officially lost any patience I once had. “OH MY FUCKING GOD, Bren!” I practically scream, instantly lowering my voice at the sight of Brendon’s facial expression. “ _I wasn’t trying to hurt myself!_ Didn’t we just go over this!? I really don’t know how else I can explain to you that I was just trying to make my _anxiety_ go away. It was literally no different than when I have you pinch me, I just didn't want to bother you.” I tell him, my voice admittedly sounding more annoyed than I intended, but I digress.

A breathy chuckle escapes from his lips, the corner of his lips turn just slightly upwards- something you could _possibly_ call a smile if you were looking hard enough, but it’s almost a smirk, “I thought that was something that only you and I were going to do together if you needed it. When you asked me to do that, that is what we discussed, so please let me know next time, okay? Also, I know you aren’t _trying_ to hurt or harm yourself. I trust that if you _did_ feel that way that you would come to one of us before it got to that point. I just get worried is all. I know that having Bilvy and Gabe here was fairly overwhelming and I know you like to hide your feelings because you think it will be easier on the rest of us if you do so. Am I wrong?”

I snort a surprised laugh, rolling my eyes at him. “Who _are_ you… _Bilvy_?”

His brow crinkles in confusion as he stares at me, “What?” He chuckles.

“That is _exactly_ what Bilvy says when he gets all ‘ _Philosophical Beckett’_ mode. He always wraps his words up into neat little packages and ends it with: “ _Am I wrong?_ ” I smirk, genuinely amused. This whole conversation was a trainwreck from the beginning anyways.

He is silent for a few seconds and then a toothy smile appears where his pouty lips once were and he too laughs, “Ugh! That asshole has brainwashed me!”

“Nah,” I argue, shaking my head, “You two just think a lot alike- which is _really_ kinda fucking creepy, if we’re being honest. ” I chuckle at him while he lays down next to me _finally_ relaxing, curling his body into mine. His warm skin is beginning to thaw the cold feeling in my chest. “I really _am_ sorry, Bren. I tried to be ‘okay’, but lately it’s been feeling a little more like I am drowning. Everything feels so intense, you know? I mean- it's fine right _now_ , I can handle it. I just might need a little more support getting over this hurdle.” I whisper. His body sinks into me a little further and he rests his head on my chest. Draping his left arm over me and trapping my legs to the bed with his own. He does this a lot when he feels like I need to ground myself. It’s like he is anchoring me to the bed so that I don’t float away. It’s actually really comforting.

“Dallon, when I said I was in it for the long haul, I meant it. You know that I am scared about our future, but _only_ because I _need you to be around for it._ I know that you want the same thing, but for some reason, those cute little demons running around in your brain are making it much harder than it should to be. We’ve got this though, okay?”

I nod, “Thank you for not calling my therapist and having me committed. I- um…I appreciate that.” I mumble.

He immediately raises his head with an annoyed look plastered to his face. “Really, Dall? Did you _really_ think I would? I mean, we _should_ probably tell her, but I don’t think she will think it’s that big of a deal.”

_I should never have said that._

“I never know _what_ is going to happen; my brain always thinks the worst… _remember?_ Wait! Do we _have_ to tell her?” I whine, like a petulant child- as if I am one second away from folding my arms across my chest and stomping my feet if I were standing upright.

_If I thought it would work, I would probably do it._

Noticing the change in my tone of voice, he chuckles to himself, “Yeah, I think it would be wise, but I guess that is up to you. I would also like to talk to her about seeing if she can change your anxiety meds to something a little less sedating so you are willing to take them when you need to. Maybe it would help to take it at night so you can get some sleep... only if you want to though.”

I breathe out, quietly. I _hate_ talking about meds. “We can talk to her about it. I guess I could talk to Pete- maybe see if he had any success with anything; maybe some meditation or some other bullshit... or maybe you can?” I lock eyes with him hoping that he will think I really _do_ give a shit about finding meds that work. He gazes at me for a second before a _real_ smile is appears on his face. I am so glad I didn't ruin his entire day by being a pain in the ass.

“I think we can do that. Travie knows a lot about that stuff too, but I don’t know how far out in our circle of friends you want to go with this.”

I shrug, “They probably already know. Gabe is a blabber mouth when it comes to our friends, but I know Travie wouldn’t repeat it to anyone; he keeps things like that very close to his chest. I am actually surprised he hasn’t already called. Gabe has been back at home for like two hours; he has probably run down his entire Decaydance contact list by now.” I laugh causing Brendon’s head to actually bounce against my chest.

“Shit. Yeah, you’re probably right.” He sighs and shakes his head, “It won’t leave the circle though; Gabe is surprisingly _very_ strict about that kind of shit.”

I nod in agreement, Gabe really is loyal to his friends and family. He knows secrets about pretty much everyone and he wouldn't ever divulge something like this to anyone he thinks would run off and tell a tabloid. Back in the day, it was even rumored that he has not only _listened_ to the 'Cabin Album', but that he actually _knows_ of its whereabouts. Brendon will neither confirm _nor_ deny that fact, so we have all come to the conclusion that it _must_ be true.

I card my fingers through his shaggy hair, brushing some stray strands away from his eyes, “Do we have any plans today?”

“Not that I am aware of. I mean, besides talking to Spencer about the lyrics you wrote...” His voice is much softer and more relaxed now.

“I don’t know- I guess we could, but I might want to add to it- maybe we can wait a couple days?”

“Sure. We can’t wait _too_ long though if you think this could work on the record. I want to try to get the number of tracks finalized before too much longer if we are going to get this out by the Fall.”

“I can work with that.” I breathe.

Bren’s phone rings from by his pillow where he threw it, he groans, rolling over to check the caller ID. He smirks at the screen, clearly amused. “It’s Bilvy.” He practically sings, wiggling his phone back and forth in front of my face.

I sigh, loudly. “Just answer it or he will keep calling,” I laugh. “I have to go take a shower anyways. You’ll probably still be talking to him by the time I am done.” I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. He just laughs, waving at me. As I reach the doorway I hear Brendon say “Well, _hello_ to you _too_ , dear William. Stop yelling; yes, everything is fine.” As I keep walking, I shake my head; this is _his_ issue to deal with. He is the one that made it sound as if I just committed some sort of fucking heinous crime. As far as reactions go, in my mind, he initially blew it way out of proportion. He won’t ever see it that way though. I guess I can’t blame him too much- I'm not sure what I would do if I were in his shoes.

Grabbing a towel from the closet, I turn the water on in the shower allowing it to heat up as I undress; haphazardly throwing my clothes in the general direction of the wicker hamper by the toilet. As I turn, I catch my reflection in the mirror- my eyes are bloodshot, puffy from crying and too little sleep. It’s almost pathetic that I am so _used_ to how I look now, that it doesn’t even faze me anymore. I’m sure that to anyone else though, I look like a fucking train wreck.

I step slowly into the shower, drawing the heavy curtain closed behind me. Leaning against the cool tile wall, I take a deep breath, allowing the steam to filter into my lungs. I close my eyes, as the heat from the water to soaks into my skin. I sigh as I remember that I forgot to grab a new bar of soap from under the sink, so I use Brendon’s instead. I take my time, lathering the soap on the silly, blue loofah that Brendon bought to match the bathroom. As soon as the water mixes with the soap, the air takes on the scent of _Brendon_ ; cucumber, melon, and green tea, and it’s made out of goat’s milk. A sweet, fruity mix that instantly relaxes me as I finish washing the rest of my body. I can see now why he insists on buying this fancy shit. I am almost finished rinsing the shampoo from my hair when I hear the door open, then shut again, I am pulled out of my sweet, relaxing oasis and back into reality.

“You used my soap? I thought you said it smelled like _‘hippies and farm animals’_?” He giggles.

“It does,” I insist, “But it also smells like _you_ and I like how you smell.” I say sweetly.

“You forgot to grab a bar of soap before you went in there, didn’t you...”

“Yeah...I did, but I don’t regret it, this shit really does smell amazing.” I confess through the plastic curtain of tropical sealife.

“Hmmm... well, we can get some for you next time we go into town. You’ve been in here awhile, are you ok?”

“Yeah, just taking a shower; I’m pretty much done anyways.” I say, turning the water off. As I draw back the curtain, I practically run right into his outstretched arm handing me my towel. “How long have I been in here?” I ask, curiously.

He glances at his phone,“About 45 minutes or so?” He says, raising an eyebrow.

I shrug, “How did your chat with Mr. Beckett go?”

“Fine, I guess. Gabe had him worked up thinking that something was wrong. I had to talk him down- _as usual._ ” His voice sounding a little annoyed.

“What did you tell him?” I inquire as I step out of the shower onto the colorful bath mat shaped like a large tropical fish, yet another bathroom item that Bren “ _had to have”._

“I told him you were tired, working through a few things, that it was no big deal, and that whatever I said to Gabe that made it sound terrible- was just Gabe and his ‘old man’ hearing.”

“And he bought that?”

Brendon stares at me for a second then throws his head back, laughing loudly, borderline maniacally, actually. “What.... are you _new_ ?! Of fucking course he didn’t! In fact, I’m surprised he isn’t on a plane back here as we speak.” He shrugs his shoulder slightly, “I guess I was able to placate him enough that he didn’t think it required _immediate_ attention. I told him it wasn’t a big deal- he seemed okay with that answer for now. You know... until he calls you later to ask you what the fuck is going on.” He says rather casually.

“ _I_ can _always_ find a way to screw shit up. It’s like my fucking superpower.” I muse, looking away from him.

He places his hand on my shoulder, “Oh hush, you know that isn’t true.”

“We _both_ know that it’s true, but _you_ just won’t admit it.” I challenge, playfully.

He glares at me, clearly choosing to concede and not to further bait the issue, “I am going to go downstairs, make coffee, and see if Spencer is alive yet. You gonna come down in a little bit?”

Reaching next to him, I grab my toothbrush from the holder, “Yeah, I’ll be down soon, I need to brush my teeth first.”

“Okay.” He says, in an oddly cheerful tone. He quickly places a chaste kiss on my cheek. “Love you, Dall.”

“Love you too.” With that, he closes the bathroom door behind him. I finish brushing my teeth and get dressed, but even _that_ is a fucking struggle right now. I am so damn tired, but I don’t even know if it’s physical or mental- _it’s probably both._ With Bilvy and Gabe now gone, we’re going to be going back into the studio pretty much non-stop starting next week and I am already dreading the long days ahead.

“Dallon James, are you coming downstairs sometime _today_?” I hear Brendon call from the bottom of the stairs.

I sigh, rolling my eyes as I open the bathroom door. “Yes, Moooom! I just need to grab my phone.” I yell back to him. I can hear Spencer laughing loudly downstairs, so I guess he survived the night. I quickly grab my phone from the nightstand and start down the stairs. I barely reach the last step before my phone starts to ring, I don’t even bother looking at it. I have a pretty good guess as to who it is- I will call him back later. I put my phone on silent and I throw it on the table by the patio door, I will deal with it later. I shuffle into the kitchen, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet above the coffee maker, pitifully looking at B while I hold it at arm's length- a silent plea for him to make me coffee. Spencer is sitting quietly at the bar, halfway through a piece of toast. He slowly nods a hello and continues his chewing. I give him a wave.

_He looks about how I feel, and that is pretty fucking terrible._

He takes the mug from my hand, “You know how to use it, Dall.” He laughs, shaking his head as he presses 10 different buttons on his stupid, fancy coffee maker.

“But you make it better than I do. I always forget to press a button _or 5;_ it never tastes right.” I whine, laying my head on his shoulder. He shifts slightly, pulling me into him, his hands ghosting over my hips as he leans in to kiss me softly on my forehead. I don’t know if it was the shower relaxing me or guilt about the bruises, guilt in general I guess, but suddenly another sea of melancholy has hit me with a tidal wave- seemingly determined to drown me in what is left of my emotions.

“You okay, baby?” His voice is no more than a whisper, he obviously doesn’t want Spencer to know anything. I nod into his shoulder as he hugs me tightly. His arms drawing me as close to him as possible. He knows I‘m not okay, he knows I am already having a shitty day, but asking me is such a formality now- even though it’s sincere, it's become part of the routine.

The beeping of the coffee machine brings us both back to reality. He kisses me on the forehead once more before releasing me from his embrace. He smirks as he hands me my coffee and I smile back, it’s the silly things that make me love him so much and knowing how to make decent coffee is pretty high on the list of awesome things he can do.

He turns back to me as I sit next to Spencer. “What would you like for breakfast, Dall?”

I grimace- the idea of food right now makes me sick to my stomach. “I’m good with coffee.”

“You really should eat something.” He furrows his eyebrows, thinking outloud. “Did you even eat _anything_ yesterday?”

I honestly have to think about it too because I have no idea. “Um...I had beer at some point, does that count?”

“Nope.”

“Then I guess I forgot to eat yesterday; probably why I feel yucky today.” I mumble.

“How about some toast- is strawberry jam ok?” He suggests to me.

“Sure. I can probably stomach toast.” Brendon gives me a thumbs up as he walks away to make toast and I look over at Spencer who is sitting with his head in his hands. He looks miserable.

“Spence,” I say quietly, “You okay? You should probably drink some Gatorade and take a few Ibuprofens.” I suggest.

He slowly turns towards me, groaning, “I already did, I am just waiting for it to kick in.”

“Why don’t you go lay down in the guest room for a while. Bren just bought new bedding for it. It’s like sleeping on 25 _really_ fluffy clouds.” I realize I sound a little too enthusiastic about the bedding when Spencer and Brendon both start to laugh at me. “What... it is though!” I protest.

“I am not arguing with you, Dall. It’s just such a cute description of a down comforter.” Bren says, chuckling to himself.

Spencer is quietly laughing too. “It’s ok,” he says, “I’ll be fine, but next time I sleep over, I call dibs on the 25 clouds of fluffiness.”

“Deal.” I laugh as Spencer gives me a rather weak thumbs up. Brendon sets a small plate with two pieces of  toast in front of me. He casually slides his hand along the side of the plate, depositing two pills on the woven, yellow placemat. The look I give him could not be mistaken for anything other than annoyance. However, in response, he cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows a bit like a passive aggressive challenge. I see what he is trying to do and I _know_ it is coming from a very honest, deeply caring place, but I am not taking both. The other pill is my anxiety med and while I know, deep in the back of my mind, that I should probably be taking it, I am too drained to play this game with him today. Instead, I take my antidepressant with a swig of coffee, like the asshole boyfriend I am, and leave the other pill lonely on the placemat. I pick up my toast, take a bite, and smirk defiantly for no other reason except that I am a trainwreck waiting to happen. B looks at me irritated expression written all over his face, but right now, I don’t care. I am sick of taking medications that make me feel loopy, sleepy, or out of my damn mind; and I am sick of explaining this ad nauseam.

It doesn’t take a genius to see that Spencer notices something is amiss. He and Bren are doing the thing where they can read each other's minds like E.T. and Elliot. A shrug, a few raising of the eyebrows, and a roll of their eyes somehow constitutes an actual conversation to them. They _think_ they are being subtle about it, but they never are. _Everyone_ knows when they are doing it and it’s actually kind of adorable, when it’s not about _me_. When their silent conversation has seemingly come to end, Bren shrugs his shoulders once more and shakes his head before he walks over to the sink to rinse the dishes that have accumulated. I honestly _still_ don’t even care right now. The toast is not sitting well in my stomach- it’s making me feel queasy. I lean forward, laying my head down on the cool granite counter top trying to not think about throwing up in the kitchen. Next to me, Spencer slides his bar stool back, picking up his dishes to take to the sink. He stands next to Brendon for a minute, squinting as he looks out the window into the backyard, the sun brightly shining down on everything in its path. It can be rather peaceful, if you aren’t feeling like shit.

Brendon elbows him in the ribs, “Dallon wrote out some lyrics last night.” He smiles at me, “I think they are pretty fucking awesome too,” He beams at Spencer with all the pride he can muster, “He is going to look over them again; I think we could have another awesome song for the record.”

Spencer’s eyes grow large and he looks at me in disbelief and then at B again, “Really?!”

“Yeah.” I mutter.

_I thought we weren’t saying anything yet..._

“Cool! I can’t wait to read them! Do you think they will be done for the studio next week?”

I shrug my shoulders,“Probably.” I reply, yawning. _Why am I so tired right now?_ I feel like something has instantly pulled every bit of energy out of my body. If I could melt into the counter right now, I definitely would. Even on my worst days, I don’t usually feel so worn down, I wonder if Brendon would come lay back down with me for a few hours.

“You okay, Dall?” Spencer asks quietly.

“Yeah, I am so _fucking_ tired for no _fucking_ reason.” I say, my words turning into a whine.

“Go back up to bed then.” Brendon suggests, but I hear that tone of concern in his voice that I am sure Spencer hears too.

_Cue the silent conversation again..._

“No, it’s ok. I just need the coffee to kick in- it wasn’t decaf, was it?”

Brendon looks at me incredulously, “ _Nothing_ in this house is decaf, Dall.” He and Spencer both start to chuckle. I smile at him because, really, what the hell was I thinking even asking that? _He alone_ consumes enough caffeine for the entire neighborhood in a single day and it’s even worse on tour. All the rumors about hiding the _Red Bull_ from Brendon on tour; definitely true. It’s a very rare day when Brendon is lazily lying around the house, let alone _not_ wired on some sort of caffeinated beverage.

I roll my eyes, “You’re right, what _ever_ was I thinking.”

I stand, pushing my barstool in, raising my arms over my head to stretch when I hear Spencer say, “What the hell happened to your arm? Did you fall down the steps or something last night?”

I freeze in place- stereotypical ‘Deer in the headlights’ look plastered to my face as I try to think of something to say; the moment already becoming awkward.

Brendon Shrugs his shoulders,“We have no idea.” Brendon says, calmly. “He woke up with them- must have hit it on something last night.”

I slowly allow the breath I have been holding to escape my lungs.

_Hopefully he didn't notice._

I shrug too, playing along, “I bruise easily _and_ I am accident prone- who the hell knows!” I chuckle, hoping that it doesn’t seem fake or forced. The problem is that Spencer _always_ seems to know when people are lying- _always_. Another reason he is the “Mom” of the band. I can see him mulling it all over in his head, his facial expressions always give him away.

“You _have_ to be more careful, Dall. People are going to think Brendon beats you.” He laughs, weakly.

“The only thing beats me at is video games.” I quip.

“It’s true. He sucks so badly!” Brendon says, trying to further solidify the fact that nothing is wrong.

_Great, let’s lie to our friends even more..._

“I promise I will be careful, Mom.” I mumble, in the vague direction of where Spencer is standing.

“Well, someone has to keep this band healthy!” He says, in his very convincing “Mom” voice.

Brendon’s face wrinkles into a cringe, “Dude, we’ve talked about that- no “ _Mom”_ voice- _it’s creepy!_ ” Brendon whines.

“You love it and you know it!” He teases, ruffling Brendon's hair. Brendon just rolls his eyes and turns to finish cleaning up the breakfast aftermath.

Spencer wanders back over to the counter, his gaze landing on the clock above the sink. “I guess I better head home. I have a web meeting with the guy who designed my drums for the last tour. He wants to talk about possibly making a _Spencer Smith Signature Series_.” Spencer just shakes his head as if the notion that someone would want to acknowledge him as being an awesome drummer, is the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard.

“That is so rad!” Brendon says, sounding way more excited than Spencer does.

“Very cool, Spence!”

“I'll see what he says,” he shrugs, “I just don’t know how much time I have to do anything extra right now since we are trying to wrap the album up.”

Brendon nods empathetically, he definitely knows how hard it is to take on extra endeavors when life is already hectic enough. “I am sure it will work out. Let me know how it goes, okay?”

“Will do. See you guys later.” Spencer says, saluting us as he walks out of the kitchen, the sound of the front door closing seconds later.

For the first time in a very long time, it’s just Brendon and I alone in the house.

“I think I am going to go work on those lyrics for a bit.” I say casually.

His gaze softens and he furrows his brow as if unsure. “Are you sure? If you aren't feeling well, you should probably just relax for awhile, babe.”

“I'm okay.” I lie. “I just need some time to work it through my head is all. Go relax- do something _lazy_ for a while. I'll come find you when I am frustrated- I mean when I am done.” I laugh.

His expression _screams_ that he is unsure, but he kisses me regardless saying against my lips, “Alright, love. I will come check on you in a little bit, okay?”

“Fair enough. Love you.” I reciprocate the kiss, deepening it just slightly, biting his bottom lip as I pull away. He winks at me in an over-the-top, overly obvious way that only _he_ could pull off, knowing that it will make me giggle- and of course it does.

I turn, grabbing my phone from the table, before walking to our music room. With the notebook I so hastily poured my heart unto early this morning, tucked under my arm. I close the door behind me so that I don't bother B in whatever he is doing. Although, I could wager a rather large bet that says he will be standing right outside the door before long. My phone vibrates in my hand as a reminder that I missed a call earlier. I tap the circular button to turn on the screen and much to my surprise, it wasn’t Bilvy who called. The area code is 315 which is neither any of the LA area codes, nor is it local; whomever belongs to the number isn’t saved in my phone as a contact, but they did leave a voicemail. I dial into my voicemail- unsurprisingly, I have to listen and delete a few in order to get to the most recent.

 _“Hey D-Man, It’s Travie! Gabey called me and... said that you...uh-”_ He pauses briefly, clearing his throat and sounding less serious. _“Nah- hey, listen, just call me back when you can talk, okay? Save this number- I’m back in New York for a while. Yeah, I  ditched the LA shit just like you did, kid.”_ He laughs the way that only Travie can, instantly taking me back to better times. _“ I miss you, dude. Seriously, call me back, Dallon. Love ya.”_

Definitely not who I was expecting, but I smile at the thought of him calling, Travie is such a good soul. He’s 3 months younger than me, but he always calls everyone “kid”; it’s just how he is. I really do enjoy being around him and I adore our conversations. He is like the mellow version of Gabe; still crazy as  fuck when he wants to be, but the sweetest person inside and out.  I save his number to my phone- I’ll call him back later.

I take a seat on the floor, stretching my long legs out in front of me as I lean my back against the couch. For whatever reason, in my entire music career thus far, I have always sat on the floor when I am either doing a planned writing session or attempting to piece lyrics together. It _probably_ has something to do my OCD, but I try not to think about it too much unless someone brings it up. I haven't written any sort of lyrics or songs in what seems like _years,_ so my anxiety is slowly rising as I know the boys have high hopes for this new album. The _last_ thing I want to do is fuck anything up or waste anyone's time with a song that won't even be a contender to make the cut. Opening the notebook, I have no idea how B could read any of this. It literally looks like a child wrote it... with their non-dominant hand. I can make out bits and pieces though, so I tear those pages out and begin to write the phrases that are at least legible on a clean page . It only takes a few minutes to re-write it all and when I re-read it, there are a few lines that I keep coming back to.

“ _These words are knives that often leave scars.”_

“ _The fear of falling apart.”_

“ _Locked away in permanent slumber.”_

I stare at the words and phrases written before me until my eyes sting from not blinking. I have always written lyrics that tend to border on ‘almost too depressing’ and satirical; that's just who I am. A lot of lyrics written when I was active in _The Brobecks_ were tongue and cheek, but still had a small tendency to earn me worried looks from the other members when it came time to record. It _is_ a little worrisome that these lyrics may be too dark for what we have tracked for the rest of the record. It’s hard to say because, I don't know if Bren really understands where I was coming from mentally when I was scribbling them. The initial vibe of the new album right now is more of an upbeat, synth/club vibe and with these lines in front of me, I may just bring the whole album down by this one song. I try my hardest just to let that thought escape me for a moment because I can hear a melody in my head, but I can't quite get it to mesh with the lines that I have. I have written and scratched out so many lines so far that the pages look almost _exactly_ like the pages I wrote last night. I have not accomplished one thing in the hour or so that I have been sitting here.

_Half of me wants to care, the other half really doesn't; this is not working out at all._

I stare at the page, drumming my fingers on the carpet where I am sitting. I _have_ to figure out how to make this work without Brendon's help. More so, I have to do this for _myself_ even though my anxiety is making my heart race and my palms sweat. I take a breath, _this is so stupid_. It's literally _just_ lyrics, but I _need_ this. I need to feel wanted again. I need to feel like I can accomplish _something_ because right now, I feel like a fucking washed up loser.

_How could Brendon Urie love someone that is such a fucking failure?_

_If he really loved me, he would have let me go that day, instead of having to live through this frustrating bullshit every day!_

I sigh, thinking about that thought for longer than I am willing to admit. It rattles around loose in my head until I finally write down, _“If you love me, let me go.”_  I stare at those words too; they are probably the most honest I have been in a long time. I kind of dig them with the other phrases I have though, so I link them together, trying different variations, but I keep coming back to the one I wrote first.

_“If you love me let me go._

_If you love me let me go._

_These words are knives that often leave scars._

_The fear of falling apart._

_Truth be told I never was yours.”_

It doesn’t feel exactly complete yet, but I think it could be a chorus or a bridge. It’s something at least, though not nearly enough.

I had _something_ in my head last night when I wrote these lines, I wish I remembered where I was going with this! I can’t get past what I have and nothing else is popping into my head. As the clock ticks on, I grow even more frustrated the longer I sit, staring at the words in front of me. Enough is enough, I let frustration win, flinging my notebook across the room in anger. The black and white speckled, spiral bound annoyance, hitting the wall under the window with a dull, unsatisfying thud. I lay down where I am seated on the floor, covering my my eyes with my right forearm.

“FUCK!” I scream, and then immediately regret doing so as Brendon probably heard me. I am just so fucking tired of not being the creative person that I thought I was before! I am so fucking sick of being trapped in my own anxiety and depression that I literally cannot function the way that I used to. I remember back when I would be so fucking excited to get home to write lyrics, play, and sing... and now, above all else, I still just want to disappear.

I lay on the floor for a while, trying to piece the phrases together when I hear a soft knock on the door.

I sit up as Brendon walks in, trying to pretend that I have my shit figured out, but I know he sees right through my guise.

“Hi, B.” I mumble, not moving from my spot on the floor.

“What are you doing on the floor?” He laughs quietly, as he lowers himself to sit next to me.

I laugh too, “Just being frustrated. Ya know, the usual?”

“Hmm, not going well?”

“Gee, how could you tell?” I say sardonically.

“Are you stuck? I can help you if you want. You know, I never meant that you had to do it by yourself, love.”

I remove my arm from over my eyes, blinking as the bright fluorescent light blinds me momentarily.

“I just wanted to be able to do this _one_ song. I am trying _so damn hard_ , but it’s as if all of my creativeness has fucking vanished! It’s frustrating, Bren.” Admittedly, my words come out in a whinier tone than I meant, but it doesn’t seem to have fazed him at all. I guess he is used to it by now.

“Babe, I think you are being way too hard on yourself. Can I read what you have so far?”

“Yeah, sure.” I mumble, vaguely waving my hand in the direction of where I threw the notebook. “It’s over under the window somewhere.”  

He crawls over by the window, propping himself against the stucco wall, and begins flipping back and forth between the two pages for several minutes.

“Where are the pages you wrote on last night?” He asks. I gather them up, handing the few pages to him. He flips back and forth through all of them for a few more minutes while I stare at him thinking that maybe _he_ is really the crazy one.

“I don’t know why you are wasting your time on this, there isn’t anything there to work with.” I try to convince him, but he shushes me with the wave of his hand.

“Oh ye of self- deprecation, get your ass over here and look,” he gestures, vaguely. Reluctantly, I crawl over to him and plop down under the window where he is sitting. “See? You have a chorus here and this line here,” he points with his finger, “ _Locked away in permanent slumber.”_ I think you could elaborate on that. I shrug and he makes an annoyed sound, continuing to point out phrases I couldn’t make out on the pages I wrote last night. He is moving so fast, he’s making my head spin.

“ _Pieces of broken memories_? Do you know what you meant by that?” He inquires. Now wielding a pen and marking different lines with his weird symbols he uses to remember the order of things. I have never been able to figure out his system.

I sigh, “ Yeah, I know why I wrote that. I meant the things I can and cannot remember from that day.” I say softly. He stops and squeezes my hand as I try not to think about it.

“I get it; I actually really like it.” He grins at me with such a genuine smile, that I feel like for the first time, he isn’t reluctant to relate to what happened. He is definitely trying a little harder to get into my brain and I for once, let my guard down a little bit for the sake of finishing what I started as we move through and try to piece together the lyrics.

At about two hours in, Brendon is tapping his fingers on the notebook lying between us; an oddly patterned, staccato rhythm that sounds vaguely like a heartbeat. I listen for a few seconds as my thoughts jump back to the lyrics and by some sort of luck, inspiration fucking hits me like a brick wall.

“BREN! I got it! Give me the notebook,” I say as I am pulling it free from his hands. He looks shocked and possibly a little scared by my shrieking; it’s fairly amusing, but I can laugh at that later.

“This is the beat of my heart.” I mumble to myself as I write it under the other phrases versed on the page.

His eyebrows crinkle in confusion ,“Huh?”

“Bren, this song needs to start with the bass drum sounding like a heartbeat.”

His eyes go wide- now we’re both on the same page. He stands up quickly, almost toppling over behind his drum kit as he sits on the stool. He slowly starts moving his foot on the drum pedal to sound like a heartbeat. I nod over to him laughing-he has the biggest smile on his face, and I _love_ that smile, I _missed_ that smile so much!

“Dallon, I think we are really onto something. I think this could be the best song on the album if we get the score right.”

As I am standing up, I shush him, “I don’t want to jinx this song, Bren, but it’s definitely going to be amazing.”  For once, I genuinely smile at my accomplishment, although I couldn’t have done it without Brendon. He really does have a knack for figuring this all out.

“It’s not _jinxing_ it, it’s more like _‘wishing it well’_ and hoping like fuck Spencer, Kenny, and the fans think it's amazing too.”  He says thoughtfully, using his fingers to make quote marks in the air. I smile at him again, catching the way that his eyes crinkle when he laughs and how damn proud he looks right now. This is why I love him so much, he is so genuinely excited about this and the feeling is overwhelmingly contagious. Mentally and physically I still feel like absolute crap, but seeing this song come together from seemingly _nothing_ in less than 24 hours, has brought me a new sense of hope that I really needed to feel today. This feeling of accomplishment is something that I haven’t felt in such a long time. I could get used to this feeling.

He comes out from behind his kit, pulls me near him, his fingertips barely ghosting over my hips as he leans in to kiss me. I reciprocate, biting his lip playfully as his lips crash silently against my own.

I lean into him, taking a deep breath before I look him in the eyes, “Call Spencer.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Fic let alone a Brallon fic. If anyone is looking to beta this for me I would appreciate it! This is a work in progress.
> 
> Also, I am trying to tag as I add Chapters. If there is anything I missed, especially triggering tags, please let me know! <3


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